Textured Tuesday: Icy Grass

The time spent outdoors on Monday, my eyes felt as though 

they'd retreated into their sockets. I walked quickly as I could through 

the cold air, darting from one warm spot to another.

My camera was in my pocket, and remained there because

my focus had turned inward, away from the cold,

to search for a spot out of the wind to wait for the bus,

a corner in the coffee shop where I could read in peace,

and remain warm. The best place I found Monday evening

was in the swimming pool, with a hot shower afterward.

I left my books in my bag during that time.