Followed by Frost

by Charlie N. Holmberg

Death tipped his hat to me.

year spent alone had opened my eyes to my own shortcomings.

Where once I had gripped on to life with white knuckles for fear of death, I now cherished life for the love of it.

His laughter made me laugh, his thoughts made me think, and his silence made me listen to each intake of his breath.

I would not fear Death, and I would not allow him to wield any power over me.

“Why else would one read unbelievable stories but in hopes of believing? I always saw novels as an outlet for which the mind can escape this world, not be tethered to it.”

Oh, how often I had played the part of the fool, but I learned from it every time. This new pain would ultimately help me grow stronger; I knew that. But it ached so terribly,

I could feel myself crumbling, and it was all I could do to pick up the pieces before they hit the floor.

How did one put the fear of winter and the hope of music into words?