winter night flash fiction

For some reason, just as California got out of June Gloom and into summer, I started thinking about winter.

Bear with me for a moment:

She remembered standing over the floor vent with her brother on winter nights. The metal grate itself never got too hot to touch, so they would stand right on top of it with their bare feet. Back then, she still wore one of her Dad’s old shirts as a nightgown and would hold out the hem of the bottom to catch as much of the heat as she could. She imagined herself as a hot air balloon preparing for a long journey.  Then walking to bed through the dark, the warm folds of fabric would brush against her stomach and thighs, the way she thought fireflies must feel like when people caught them between cupped hands and put them in glass jars like they did in movies.



much love,
hedgie