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.