I’m shaking in my boots as I sit hunched over in a fold out chair. We have been out here for three hours now and not a single fish is biting. It’s minus thirty, and all we have to keep us warm is a little tent around ourselves. I should have known that going ice fishing with my brothers would not be as fun as it sounded when they raved on about “oh we’ll have some good talking and dickin’ around when we’re there.” Well freezing our arses off so bad we can barely light our smokes wasn’t exactly a part of the plan. The wind had picked up, and the temperature dropped ten degrees by the time we were set up.

“Holy fuck boys,” I say through my scarf.

“What’s your issue, Lily?” One of my brothers, Scott asks. I turn to face him, but he doesn’t look at me. He is focused on the hole in the ice, and the still string on the rod.

“I could use a cigarette,” I huff out. My other brother, Garrett nods his head in agreement.

“Well,” Scott paused to have a swig of his beer. “Do you have smokes?”

“Of course I got fuckin’ smokes,” I say without hesitation.

“There you go then! Have one.” Garrett chimes in.

I sit in my chair and look at them. “I am too damn cold to light anymore smokes.”

(I am bored now. I’m going to probably have a smoke)