January 10, 2016

Though many feet had packed the snow on the bridge, her boots still slipped. I might fall, she said. Then what will you do?

He looked at her as if she had missed everything he’d said for weeks. Do you think I’d leave you here in the cold?

She thought about what it would feel like to lie there on her back for the rest of the evening, the pinprick of snowflakes falling onto her cheeks from dull orange clouds above.

I don’t, she said, and she twirled then, safe in the knowledge of what would happen next.

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