The Sleep on Her Eyes

Winter was cold. But summer was colder.

Yes, winter was cold. But as she struggled to cover herself with an undersized blanket and rubbed her numb feet against the itchy woolly fabric and huddled with the ones near to heart, she was filled from head to toe with such a delightful heartwarming warmth that could rival the heat of a fire.

Summer was the time of sweat and blood. The time she slept bare. Bereft of warmth. Bereft of company. Everyone simply toiled. Nothing much happened. Nothing much…

At this point, Nut the nut-seller yawned. The nipping wind seemed to beat down on the hard frosty ground where Nut lay. She let out a faint moan of shiver in the crisp, cold air. Her eyelids drooped. She had to sleep. And sleep she did. The love of her life made her sleep.

The morning found her forehead chillingly hot. Her features were schooled into an eternal smile. A warm and lovely smile, full of youth and life.

Yet another nobody lost.

Author Notes: Thousands of homeless back here rot away on the cold, stone pavements. Funnily, city has much less to offer than what countryside could have provided them. A little tribute to them...

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