hello!Long time, no see!

Well, I must say, I really like this one. I, for one, absolutely love the cold, but...not when I'm trying to sleep. Yes, I know exactly what it's like when even a pile of b lankets doesn't help... (gr).

This story/poem was a bit repetitive; you kept on mentioning the hurt and aching in your chest, and spreading throughout. I think that if you mention if only once or twice, the point is made, but about 4 or 5 times (as mentioned in the text) kinda makes it a bit of a drag on the story.

However, the ending sentence definitely gives the story life. At first, ya know, the reader thinks that it's just a story about why you hate the cold and what it does to you; but then that last line insinuates that there's something more emotional and mental about this cold...that maybe it's not just from outside, but in, and that the places where the cold never leaves aren't necessarily physical, but something else. It's the perfect ending and it makes the reader satisfied and yet desperately reaching for more. I think you've done a wonderful job on this one, and I hope to see more like it.

Happy Thanksgiving!!

-Abby