I can feel the blanket wrapped around my shoulders, though the cold from the snow outside still pricks at my bones. I can see the roaring fire before me, though it seems to give off no light.
They rescued me from the cold, for that I’m thankful. But, perhaps they shouldn’t have, as the cold was peaceful. Cold was cold and dark was dark; with them, that’s different. The warmth is still cold and the light still dark.
Thank you, kind strangers, but can I go back? Back to the cold where the world is quiet and calm?
