Cold in the way
He slept under the night sky. The stars were out, light cloud coverage, and the moon was half full. The lost goddess in permanent sleep, always in in flux, profile position into a dark veil. She was a bride walking through the seasons, skipping into the summer and laughing with the howl of a coyote, and kneeling as she mourned into winter's howling winds.
Winter, or Vinter as in his ancestors native tongue, was approaching soon. He was curled up in his sleeping bag next to the crackling fire, one red eye blinking in the night time, projecting shadows up to the rocks and trees. Smoke filled his lungs as he breathed the cold night air. it was crisp, with the after taste of the kippered snacks that haunted his stomach from an hour before. Dirt and sand mingled in-between his long hair from sleeping for days in the desert where he lay. From time to time he would find a twig that had just enough branches to comb the wildness out of it. other days he would just push it up into an dusty cloth hat that kept his hair close, as well as his ears warm when the wind would get to intolerable.
He looked out into the stars. he looked out at the moon in cameo, realizing that he stood on a planet, and that that great body that he stared at was not too far away in retrospect. The cold glow reflected back into his eyes and contrasted the fire beside him.
"A miniature sun, I've created," he thought. "It will be the the only vigil for hundreds of miles until the morning comes."
Winter, or Vinter as in his ancestors native tongue, was approaching soon. He was curled up in his sleeping bag next to the crackling fire, one red eye blinking in the night time, projecting shadows up to the rocks and trees. Smoke filled his lungs as he breathed the cold night air. it was crisp, with the after taste of the kippered snacks that haunted his stomach from an hour before. Dirt and sand mingled in-between his long hair from sleeping for days in the desert where he lay. From time to time he would find a twig that had just enough branches to comb the wildness out of it. other days he would just push it up into an dusty cloth hat that kept his hair close, as well as his ears warm when the wind would get to intolerable.
He looked out into the stars. he looked out at the moon in cameo, realizing that he stood on a planet, and that that great body that he stared at was not too far away in retrospect. The cold glow reflected back into his eyes and contrasted the fire beside him.
"A miniature sun, I've created," he thought. "It will be the the only vigil for hundreds of miles until the morning comes."
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