Writing Inspired by a Photo

Blinking her eyes open, blurry lines.  Darkness again, blurry lines, then darkness.  Her breathing deepens and she feels the icy air weave tendrils of frost down into her lungs.  The blurry lines begin to take shape, vaguely familiar, forming into a solid image like ice freezing on the surface of puddles.

Trees.  Her eyes dart as she slowly tries to raise her head.  Her body, previously forgotten, slams itself into her consciousness by being surprisingly absent.  Her hands, her feet, her legs, all gone.  Well, at least as far as her control over them is concerned.  Nothing moves, even when she screams it in her mind.  Screaming, even that won't come.  A small mouse of a noise scuttles from her lips, but that is all.

She is enveloped in a blanket of tiredness, all this effort peels  life further from her body.  Trees blur into oil slicks as she closes her eyes, one final time.  Her chest lowers and the frost creeps out of her lungs to rest on her lips, looking down over the body that once belonged to her, but now is his alone.

Writing

Well, it is a new month and so a new creative outlet.  In February I will focus on writing.  It is something I enjoy and something I can pretend that I am half-way decent at, but I've already hit a stumbling block.  What kind of writing?  Poetry? Stories? Blogging about life?  Rants?  I'm good at those.  It's been decided that I will do whatever I feel like that day.  Sometimes I will write directly as a post, sometimes it will be on the computer, but not as a post.  Other days it will be in whatever book, journal, or scrap piece of paper I have handy.  Feel free to skip this stuff, you may get bored.