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Snowflakes drift down listlessly, covering the cobbled streets and shingled rooftops. Carriages hurry up and down the slick streets, carrying passengers as eager to be inside as the cabbies and horses themselves. As the snowflakes thicken and the wind begins to blow, the streets are slowly deserted. Empty except for a solitary figure. A thin, patched greatcoat is drawn closer to the thin body as the wind blows snowflakes into his face. Red chapped hands hold the coat closed over a threadbare shirt and trousers. Wandering through the streets as it grows colder and colder, the boy searches for shelter. His eyelids droop as the night progresses, his teeth chatter uncontrollably and his body trembles with cold. The pain that had gripped his small frame is now gone, nothing but an aching numbness remains. Dropping to the ground in a dead-end ally, the boy curls his body together, trying to stay warm. His once-red cheeks are now an icy blue, and he gasps for breath as the cold air freezes his lungs.
His eyes close slowly as his body relaxes. Clenched fingers uncurl and drop down by his side, resting in the snow. A harsh intake of breath, and then a long, slow exhale that brings a cloud of fog from his open mouth.
The snow continues to fall that night and the next, covering his still form.



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This article has 7 comments. Post your own!

naturelover said...
Jan. 29, 2010 at 10:45 pm:
Great piece! I've often been out in the cold (temporarally, not like trapped or anything) and it almost made me shiver.
 
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jessi said...
Nov. 12, 2009 at 10:41 pm:
this was pretty good. while i was reading it all i could think was "little match girl". i think someone else said that, but anyway. pretty good! :)
 
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cassandra_2011 said...
Oct. 28, 2009 at 10:23 pm:
You need to phrase your sentences right. Poems aren't supposed to be in paragraph form. Re do it and just separate sentences that are ended with a comma, or however you want it to flow. Re do it in good form and tell me when you do and I'll take a look and comment.
 
Tashan replied...
Oct. 29, 2009 at 11:01 am :
It's not supposed to be a poem. It was just something that came to me and I wrote it.
 
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Tashan said...
Aug. 12, 2009 at 7:55 pm:
Thanks again :D it is always great to get feedback. And actually, when I wrote this piece I thought the same about the comparison. (SP?) I wrote it over a year ago, though, and since then have been able to enroll in a school for writing so I hope I will continue to improve
 
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unearthlyhaphazard said...
Jul. 23, 2009 at 12:01 am:
As I said in one of your other pieces, you give wonderful descriptions. I can really picture this all. You've got a real talent, and I hope you keep writing! By the way, this story reminds me a bit of "The Little Match Girl" by Hans Christian Anderson.
 
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Blood-of-Ink This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jun. 2, 2009 at 4:14 pm:
You're a great writer, and I hope you keep on going with this kind of piece. The descriptions are great. P.S. Thanks for your comment on Purple Sands. Feedback's great!
 
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