Daily story, June 1, 2025

It had grown cold enough to numb fingers, and suddenly there were all sorts of fiddly jobs to do. Buttons to button, knots to knot. When we blew on our hands, our breath was cold and crystalline. When we rubbed them together, they powdered like snow. At the fireside, we thawed just so we could refreeze stiffer and more brittle. Slowly we came to understand our comrades who had walked out onto the ice.