Winter Sniffles

Saliva scratched its way down her throat as she swallowed. She sighed through her mouth, though a small amount of air managed to whistle its way through her nose.

She reached for another tissue as a sneeze lingered, prodding slightly. Testing. She wrinkled her nose and glanced at the bright light in her room. Excited, the sneeze bounced around until it was time for it to explode outward into the etiolated tissue. It fairly shredded and she wiped her nose before dumping it into the garbage.

Groaning, she leaned back against her multitude of pillows placed strategically on her bed. She pulled the covers up and turned the page of her book. She sniffled yet again, though whether from the book or her illness, it was uncertain.

A cough clawed its way free, feeling vengeful for the tight hold she had kept over her lungs. It brought with it its companions, each as eager as the next, their freedom celebrated with sharp hacks. Her stomach muscles clenched with effort, and she doubled over until it was over. Only then did she lean back and allow her head to loll sideways, book now held uselessly between limp fingers.

Then the door opened, and something delicious made itself known. She tried to smile, but all she could do was glance over. Her mother set a bowl down on the small table, and gently felt her forehead. With a smile she promised some tea, and left her to eat.

She eased the spoon out of the bowl, relishing the steam’s warm encouragement. She knew the taste more than well enough to make up for her lack of smell. And sure enough, the moment it touched her tongue, she found herself smiling.

It did not last long, the soup. Soon all that was left was a yellowish residue that clung desperately to the bowl’s edges. And when her mom returned with tea, she pulled her lips upwards as her eyes softened. The warmth from her mother’s hands passed through the mug to hers.

Fall Shivers

   Thin fingers squeezed together, shaking slightly in the frigid morning air. Her gloves were still buried deep within the closet, so she had to resort to tucking her hands within her slightly too-thin sleeves. A shiver ran the length of her body, and she quickened her steps. 

   Just a little bit further.

   Her toes had started protesting the cold from the moment she crawled out from under her covers this morning. Even her thick socks weren’t helping.

   Up ahead she saw the inviting yellow of her favourite morning stop. She stuck her hands under her arms, shoulders hunched slightly.

   The bell rang as she opened the door. She straightened as warmth and the smell of coffee flitted about her senses.

   The door closed, forcing the seeking frost to retreat. It allowed no resistance and closed with a jolly jingle. 

   Mutinously resistant cold air clung desperately to her back, lurking under her jacket, clawing at her back. She shivered once more, dislodging it. 

   She accepted her usual with a smile and brief exchange. Then her hands surrounded the cup, and her shoulders relaxed. Her fingers tingled, warming a bit too quickly, and she inhaled the wake up she’d been lacking. 

   One sip in, one breath out.

Staying warm, Korean style

Staying warm in the winter

Staying warm in the winter

Yes, it is a hood and a scarf. Yes, there are mittens at the ends. Yes, it is as soft as it looks. Softer, actually.

In – 17C weather, it is my best friend.