Frost & Firelight Quotes

“The cold had not merely chilled his face. It had stolen it. He tried to form words, but without useful control of his lips, all that came out was a series of low, slurred vowels.”
― Belinda Kelderhouse, Frost & Firelight: Short Stories for Long Winter Evenings

“You know what?’ Jay said to himself, taking another small sip. ‘Maybe winter isn’t actually that bad. Maybe people just complain too much. It’s about mindset.’ That profound sense of optimism lasted exactly one block.”
― Belinda Kelderhouse, Frost & Firelight: Short Stories for Long Winter Evenings

“The world outside his rented, two-story house had vanished. In its place was a vast, monochrome landscape covered in what looked like powdered sugar dumped by a giant with zero sense of restraint.”
― Belinda Kelderhouse, Frost & Firelight: Short Stories for Long Winter Evenings

“He had pictured himself becoming the sort of man who casually used the phrase ‘crisp air.’ He had not pictured waking up on a Monday morning in late November to discover that the universe had apparently suffered a catastrophic rendering error outside his bedroom window.”
― Belinda Kelderhouse, Frost & Firelight: Short Stories for Long Winter Evenings

“This is fine. People live here. Millions of people live in New York. Children live here. Old people live here. They survive. I am a grown man with a college degree. I can survive weather.”
― Belinda Kelderhouse, Frost & Firelight: Short Stories for Long Winter Evenings

“His right foot slid forward without consulting the rest of him. His left stayed exactly where it was, and the sudden disagreement sent his balance tipping into open rebellion. His arms windmilled in a frantic, useless attempt to negotiate with gravity, but the negotiation failed immediately.”
― Belinda Kelderhouse, Frost & Firelight: Short Stories for Long Winter Evenings

“Right,’ Jay grunted to his reflection, his voice muffled by the thick collar pressing against his chin. ‘We are adapting. We are resilient.”
― Belinda Kelderhouse, Frost & Firelight: Short Stories for Long Winter Evenings

“In his hometown, the word ‘season’ was a mild suggestion rather than a strict legal contract. Autumn meant the leaves turned a slightly lighter shade of green before dropping politely onto dry grass. Spring was summer, slightly diluted.”
― Belinda Kelderhouse, Frost & Firelight: Short Stories for Long Winter Evenings

“He didn’t look like a sleek, capable professional living in the Northeast. He looked like a laundry basket that had sprouted legs and a head, and turning around required moving his entire torso as one rigid, unified block. Like a Lego with a head.”
― Belinda Kelderhouse, Frost & Firelight: Short Stories for Long Winter Evenings