the complicated chillMature

In the cold compressed air of the factory, she shivered.  Her auric cardigan did little against the autumn night that had settled hours before over the city; when she took the effort to wipe the sediment and dust from the window she could make out the ethereal glow of the stars, but it was insufficient alleviation.  In time, pacing exhausted her and her skeleton succumbed to the bitter chill, her ribcage quivering like wind chimes in a ghostly breeze.  She couldn’t help the questions that beleaguered her; the gaps in her knowledge were corrosive – they spread, disintegrating the facts she’d had before the night fell.

She’d known the dangers; she remembered that – if nothing else.

The concrete floor did nothing to help her retain her body heat.  She hunkered down, curled in on herself, her arms wrapped around her knees; her breath came out in small clouds from between her chapped lips, light on the warmth but heavy on the wheezing.  She wondered what time had already passed and how far away the sunrise was.

The End

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