The first brisk blast is fast like slap to the face after one leaves their comforting shell of warmth. The cold seeks to cover and coddle you in its blanket that is anything but warm. Its fine needles scour in search of exposed flesh to prick so it may seep deeper, until it may settle into your bones, but your shivers act against its plans and break down its power. The wind is its accomplice, trying to steal your breath away, a vacuum that can't be unplugged. The bully gains confidence with another on its side, and so strikes again, sharp and stinging, like a viper's bite with the venom slowly seeping into your blood stream. The freezing of inner gears prevents the whole mechanism from working well, and this is the mean cold's plan; only it did not take into account that you were only walking next door, so before your engine sputtered to a stop, you entered a new shell where it could not follow and so, like a tiger, it restlessly lies in wait to greet you again.
Me note: P.S, if it wasn't evident, I wrote this in the winter time.
Merci~ Sylvi <3
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Figurative Language work
RandomMost of this was written for a creative writing class, but maybe I can add more at a later time when/if I come up with more. They were difficult to do at first, but honestly, once I became more used to it, it was hard to stop and get into a differen...
