Renee Hughes

The Verge of Winter

The wind was bitingly cold, its icy fingers searching for any breach in security. I pulled my coat tighter around my middle, trying to hug the warmth closer. A sigh escaped my lips, the bus wouldn’t be on the regular downtown route, not with this nor'easter blowing at its peak. This weather will make tonight’s walk treacherous, even in these fur lined boots. I pulled my black parka’s hood closer to my face, turning against the wind and started towards the intersection.