Friday, March 3, 2017

3/31: A Cold-Hearted Sneak Attack #sol17

Thanks to the Two Writing Teachers blog for hosting the #sol17 challenge!
End of day. Teeth brushed, hair pulled back, pajamas on. Sleep impending.

I shiver as I climb between our teal sheets, pulling them over my head in an attempt to get warm. This is the curse of the perpetually cold, the ones with blue-tinged fingernails and a constant peppering of goosebumps across their forearms. The ones who, despite their attempts, always have cold hands. Even when every inch is snuggled between blankets.

When my husband enters the room, all he sees in the bed is a shapeless lump that bears little resemblance to his wife. This is normal. He slides into bed. 

I'm still cold. But I know he is warm. 

So I do what any loving wife would do. I take one of my hands (yes, the hands that could be described as blocks of ice) and start to inch it towards his bare forearm. 

I rationalize my sneak attack. This man is from Minnesota. He knows cold. He can handle my zombie hand. He's got warmth to spare. 

My fingers draw closer. I can feel the heat radiating off of him. I imagine how blissfully toasty my hand will be once it makes contact with him, the cold surface of the moon colliding with the sun. I can't wait any longer. I close my eyes and go in for the kill. 

Contact. A shriek. I swear his skin sizzles against my hand like flecks of cold water tossed in a heated frying pan. But the warmth! I wriggle my fingers in pleasure, relishing the heat. He squirms. 

It is dark, but I don't need to see his face to know that his mouth is stretched in a mix between a grimace and a smile, his eyes wide open with the shock of my icy surprise. 

Between gasps and what sounds a little like laughter, he says, "WHY are your hands so cold?! Are you actually DEAD??"  

No...just cold. But thanks to my unsuspecting victim, my hand is a little less so now.

Author's Note: To be fair, my husband is a kind kind, that a few minutes later, he let me put my other hand on him.  


  1. I love the author's note at the bottom. I laughed out loud when he asked if you were actually DEAD. You are a lucky woman!

  2. You have such a gift for painting word pictures! Tonight's slice made me laugh out loud!