The Thaw.

They stole the last of the wine. Their eyes were shifty, black, evil, and cruel. They were wearing the badge of the runaways, a group built to last and to cause chaos. I was only minding my own business, coughing up blood onto my dirty hand, drinking to the church-bells, trying to stave off hypothermia.
They ran like dogs through this alleyway, shuffling through my belongings, telling me that I would be slaughtered if I spoke up or said something to the police. I was tired and hopeless, helpless and weak, they took what they wanted, wine and tobacco, everything I had in my backpack.

I thought it was done and dusted. But they hit me and scorned me, overpowered me and silenced my bellows. They spat in my paper-cup, stealing the coins, and running away screaming out words of dishonor. I was left with nothing to my name, I mean I’ve not had much for years, but I had enough to get me through the harsh winter.
I stood up and tried to shake off the dismay. But my stomach was empty and I wasn’t drunk enough. So, I left the sleeping bag behind and ventured off through this disheartening city, a place plagued by drugs and a sense of impending doom.

I could smell the aftermath. The stale alcohol, I could see the effects of the hungover generation. It was eye-opening for me, a man homeless and drunk, a man who fled the last place he called home. I escaped the burdens, I walked away with the darkest cloud above my head, a depression so fierce.
As I walked through the blustery wind and danger zones. I felt a stroke from a hand so soft and angelic. It was a touch so unfamiliar in these parts. I turned and faced her and stared in to her blue eyes, she smiled at me.

It was like we were frozen in time, the smile was etched on her face more than a minute. My fuzzy brain couldn’t remember who she was….
A surge of darkness came over us. The wind began to push at us. She began to crack and the smile suddenly disappeared, she fell into dust.

I was stuck here.

Until my tortured eyes opened to the screams of a passer-by. There was a gnawing pain.

Beside me lay my severed arm. Beside that lay a picture of the girl from my dream.

My little girl Lilly.

She was all grown up in the dream.

A woman of stance and authority.

I could hear the muffled sound of a woman calling for an ambulance.

I was trying not to nod off. The ground was frozen and I could taste the salt. I knew the thaw was on its way.