Mr Frosty

Like a rustling of far off porch chimes.

Almost soothing.

But not clean like a piano.  Instead there was a certain broken static to it.  Like a radio playing underwater from a car that had been pushed into a lake.

The louder it got the more I got pulled out from the hole that was sleep.  I still lay in bed with my eyes closed but I was awake.

I turned my head a bit to bring the sound in louder.  And it was louder.  And the louder and closer it got, the more familiar it became.

No longer the ringing of some distant chimes or a far off radio.  It was familiar.  Something I knew.





About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)