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The Frost and the Princess – Short Story

WatMButtonTake2wText-300x300 Prompt : “The third day comes a frost, a killing frost.” – William Shakespeare ( response can be fiction or creative non-fiction, and there’s a word limit of 500 words.)

 

“The third day comes a frost, a killing frost” Tatti muttered Shakespeare’s prose as she cupped her hands and blew her hot breath into them… it was like holding a bit of fog for a moment as it was so chilly she could see her own breath within those hands… November Third… how ironic… and yet even she had to admit the crisp air had a feeling of change to it…  Tatti could use a change more than most… and feeling slight optimistic she un-buried herself from the newspapers she was using as a blanket, when the sun was high around noon the frost that covered them would make them soggy and useless for warmth…it was okay… She never had trouble finding enough of those… and they could only do some much to warm her anyways… Food… now that was a different story… She could never seem to find enough of that… She was always just barely staying ahead of that painful nagging bitch hunger… it could be worse… stay ahead of it she had so far… Tatti… short for Tattiana means Princess in Russian or so she had been told by anyone whom had ever heard her name… “princess my ass” she huffed as she stepped out of the hidden alley between buildings…  as she pulled the ice from her hair that had frozen after the rain had dampened her locks… dread locks… long and dirty blond… really nothing much more than a rats nest clear down to the small of her back… She had as many piercings as she did locks… there wasn’t much left she hadn’t shoved a steel post through… shuffling towards the grey hound station she scuffed her shoes all the way too… not really picking up her feet… or her head to meet the eyes of anyone she passed… as she neared the bus station/youth safe place… she began taking count of the people she saw with in… the teens that had woken up to this painful bitter cold… and her winter count began… she counted the heads of those she recognized… took inventory of who was on the streets these days… killing frost may seem a descriptive word to some… but to Tatti… and the others inside the shelter… they were very literal words… odds were that not all of them would make it through this season… just as seasons past. Aluminum boxes affixed to the ceiling with coils of red heat resembling a snake greeted her as she pushed the door open… The heat burned her numbed nose and cheeks uncomfortably as she defrosted… She found a bench in the corner and sat… trying to blend into the wall really… to be invisible was her goal. Attention was not something she had any use for… promises and good intentions did very little to change her life for more than a meal or two… and she knew the only thing she could count on today was the fact winter was coming… and she was alive.

Frost