Analysis Of The Book The Cold Nights - 1221 Words

The page was crammed with writing, a sea of chaotic words; each letter dancing back and forth to find its place. The sentences were arranged in an unintelligent disarray. Berserk symbols were drawn hastily over the crumpled paper. 4:13am. The light had gone out of my life. The night came mumbling sweet nothings, luring energy from her already weakened muscles. There was no trace of warmth left, nothing of the summer or the alluring kiss of the vanquished sun. The hours promised to pass slowly. The cold nights were infact the longest, or so it felt that way. Every night was a delusive scuffle of conflicting thoughts. Twelve o clock morphed into one and then two and then three. The time ticked by, marked only by those changing numerals.†¦show more content†¦Life was caving in on her. Her head was too delirious. Each thought bounced around inside her skull like a disoriented swarm of bees. Now and then they stung. Must be hornets, not bees. Bees died after one sting. And the same thoughts were stinging her again and again. It was winter. A colder, more frigid winter I do not think there ever was in the small town of Montana. We were embraced with happiness; the branches of the tree formed an arch with the weight of the snow, leaves crisped from the frost. I remember that winter so well, certainly because the season was so little in tune with our thoughts. Allison and I, poked at the hershey kisses and soft marshmallows, watching them melt into the hot chocolate. It s too cold to play hide-n-seek- Boo, she quivered. Letting a little giggle escape from my mouth, I insisted on still playing. In the past she and I had often played, hiding from each other; yet when we found each other once more, it was a fit of laughter. That day, however, all was changed. It took me a long while to discover Allison. She had hidden herself in the depths of a dark cupboard, in the shed with a fallen roof slate. On the satellite images the hurricane had looked beautiful, a perfect swirl of white no more threatening than cream stirred into coffee. No one had given it much attention, or more so, they had secretly prayed for it to turn away. But instead, it left our town like twisted metal. People cried.