13/08/07
She lay curled up in the snow, as festive lights and decorations hung on trees and lamp posts around her. Strangers, snug in their coats against the harsh winter cold, moved hurriedly past her, away from her, to finish up that last bit of Christmas shopping before dinner. They were preoccupied with memories of family and laughter. The pain of thousand needles gnawing at her skin had gradually disappeared, all that was left was a dull numbing ache. Her pale hands tightly clutched the unsold box of matchsticks which was dampened by snow. With fingers that no longer tremble, she took one and lit it. The tiny matchstick flared up in the frosty air, but offered no warmth to the cheek held closely to it as its flame was lost in the howling wind. She tried hard to recall how it was like to feel warm again, to be held with tenderness in the arms of a loved one. She wrestled and grappled with a fleeting memory that threatened to take flight, to undo itself, so all she could ever remember was the cold and gathering darkness and fading footsteps on the streets.


|jav| 12:30 AM|

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