She’s cold. Frigid. And that’s not an innuendo, just an apt word to describe her. When she smiles it’s with frozen lips, which only complement her icy stare. Everything about her is chilly.

Not warm in the least.

Her icebound emotions and wintry disposition. Her arctic heart. It’s impossible to engage her what with her frosty talk. When things become heated, she’s a blizzard, a squall. Interacting with her makes you want to reach for a blanket. When she leaves you’re left only with a shiver.

Tundra’s her name. And you best stay away. Or die of hypothermia.


3 thoughts on “TUNDRA

  1. A little too close for comfort today. Blowing snow here. 9 degrees F. Feels like minus 6. Not liking it at all.

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