The Story of the Cold

It was a cold day. Not from the frost that nipped at my nose, but from a story I’m about to show.

The day grew colder as I stepped from my car, and to the coffee shop, where I work, I walked. I went up the steps and in the door. And the store warmed my heart, and my smile grew more. I couldn’t be happier serving coffee and making tea, but then…something startled me.

My phone went off, and who would have guessed, it was that guy I was with…only I thought he was dead. For to me it was over, and to him I was not…he sent me a text that didn’t deserve to be caught.

I read it once, and gagged inside….an anger rose and I wanted to run and hide. How could such anger have visited me here, inside my sanctuary of cups filled, but not with my tears. For he sent me something…that was disrespectful. Not pertaining to a rhythm that I had hoped.

I deleted his contact, and blocked his code. So there you have it…the story of the cold.

For I didn’t bother to deal with this madness he started that would end true bliss. He only sees the body, and never the soul. And so I gave him a cold shoulder, and ended that darkened hole.

 

 

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