Ice

Traversing wintery planes everyday.

Trudging back from work everyday.

Slinging the coat onto the rack everyday.


The bitterness of daily monotony bites into my skin. My soul feels the sting of the never ending labour.


My daughter runs downstairs to greet me, throttling headfirst into my unmoving torso.


I am a man of few words. And although she cannot see it from her height, a smile breaks across my face.


A warmth in the ice.

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