What warmth looks like:

My hands move stiffly as I type, navigating the keys through layers and layers of clothing. My fingers are crawling over the letters at an arctic pace. Outside it's dark and freezing, the air solidifying as the seconds tick by. The window is misted up and fog filters through the valley, snaking around the green curves like a slow moving river. Winter has finally hit Monkton.

 

Sorry, when I get the chance to write descriptively I tend to go overboard. I'm just trying to sum up my situation right now. I'm pretty sure my middle toe on my left foot has gone numb, but I'm ignoring it. Just like I'm trying to ignore the tiredness that claws at my eyes. Why is it that the best inspiration always comes last thing at night?

 

I was completely ready for bed, hot chocolate in the microwave and everything. I just had to give into temptation and switch on the computer. Mistake. Anyway, I was procrastinating and pushing the thought of tomorrow morning to the back of my mind, when I saw this picture. I looked at it and almost melted on the spot.

 

I can just feel the warmth flooding through my bones and smoothing my shivers, easing the tension. This picture makes you think that you could almost pick the warmth up and squeeze the heat into real life, the gentle summer sun oozing against your skin...why am I torturing myself like this?

 

I just need to suck it up and go to bed. Okay...I'm going. I'll do it.

Goodnight all!