A Hell That Froze Over

Just to get an idea of where I am going with chapter 1 my intention is to have the narrator Zoe Amber narrating as though she were blogging the events in her life. Feedback will be great re: style and flow :).

It is a cold and grey world that greets me this morning. Even the sparrow huddling on the windowsill of my bedroom taps plaintiff at the pane in a desperate attempt to enter my room.

Only Ted and I are just as cold. Well maybe not Ted – he has burrowed himself right under the feather duvet till all I can hear are muffled grunts and snores from under the covers. I don’t complain though, at least he’s keeping my toes warm – aside that is from the occasional kick of protest I get when I wriggle my toes too much.

Today the world outside my window is awash with white hills of new snow that fell silently last night. Even the light outside looks cold and brittle as though if  you were to take a breathe of it you would feel pieces of ice crackling all the way into your lungs.

Of all the places Vara has brought me too this is by far the most remote and by even farther the coldest place I have ever had to stay in. This will be the fifth continent that I have lived in. First it was Europe where I was born, then after Mom and Dad died Vara took me to South Africa which was actually quite cool. After I turned 12 we left there for South America. That place was hard to adapt to and Vara’s job with Nurses Without Borders meant we got sent to some serious hell holes. Luckily we only stayed there for two years before we moved to Australia. My favourite place. I really miss it.

Now here, Springdale Newfoundland. Population 2907. Average temperature un-freaking-believably cold. Especially since we arrived in the middle of winter. So much for acclimatization and all that. It’s been a month now since we got here and settled into the old house nestled amongst every other home built on Hall’s Bay.

My room still pretty much looks the same as when I moved into it. Whoever was in it before kindly left some furniture that I have dutifully claimed as my own. The bed and vanity chest are pretty much my favourite pieces (and, save for the smelly cupboard, are pretty much all that occupy this room). The bed is wrought iron with a filigree design of leaves and twirls. The vanity chest looks like something straight out of Fantasia with old wooden claw legs that I’m just waiting to see come alive and dance a wild jig across my bedroom floor. Even now I’m peering over at it with great suspicion – I swear I saw it move an inch. Shudder.

One more year, and then I’m out of here – I can choose where ever I want to live. I’ll no longer be a burden to anyone in my life, dragged from place to place like one of those tacky ornaments someone gave you and you never wanted but you felt compelled to keep it because of who gave it to you. That’s me – Zoe Amber the snow globe that no one wanted.

Ted’s black mustache has just emerged out from under the covers when he heard my phone vibrating. Even though he’s one year old his breath still has that puppy smell when he’s been sleeping. I suppose in dog years he’s still pretty much a kid – being seven in our human ones. For a Scottish Terrier you would imagine he’d fair well in this cold. Softy.

The End

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