General

The energy that is usually on tap, starts to drizzle out as if there were soft cold rain within; it is as if my spark begins to struggle under even timid drops. And though in a week I'll be strong I'm sure, fire rekindled and burning bright, for now this cold has me seeking the shelter of home and hearth.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, February 21, 2020.
General

The cold becomes invisible weights tied to limbs that would rather fly, rather dance, rather than do anything but succumb to the mild fever and fervent production of a mucus tissue mountain.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, February 21, 2020.
General

The cold has fixed an energy tap to my core and is set to a steady leak, not enough to keep me in bed, yet sufficient to take away any desire to leap or sing. I realise it will take flight in a few days and, for all but the passage of time, I'm quite well and healthy, yet I wish it to go all the faster with my impatient child-self.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, February 21, 2020.
General

The cold feels as if my inner thermostat has been set by some skin-flint miser, and all I am allowed is a few degrees below real comfort.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, February 21, 2020.