Cold

The icy wind, sharp as shards of glass, cut through his frayed blanket. He was no stranger to winter on the streets. He remembered at least 10 of the 14 years of his young life but it had never been this bad. He closed his eyes praying for sleep.

Suddenly … something warm against his back. He sat up abruptly, warily. Two large eyes looked back at him, desperate, beseeching.

Strangers in the night ... they stared at each other.

Slowly, he extended his blanket.

And then they slept ..
curled up together,
giving and receiving warmth.
Strangers no longer.

Boy and dog.
*******

Linking to Write Tribe's 100 words on Saturday introduced in February 2013 on Everyday Gyaan.



This week's prompt 'Strangers in the night' was given by the lovely Suzy Que.

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