An unfinished post from Scattered Thoughts # 4

Outside. Everything is covered with a thick sheet of ice, making navigation treacherous. Steam is pushed from my mouth in short, rapid bursts. My wool overcoat rendered ineffective by the chill. Every step I take comes with images of slipping and cracking my head on the cement.

I wondered who would find me and what they would do when they did? Hopefully they wouldn't just rob me blind and leave me to freeze over. Out of all of those I care about, who would be