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purplerabbitAs both a tease and by way of explanation, here is a small paragraph from the chapter I am currently writing:
Meanwhile, the temperature in here is around 90 F. The heat is overwhelming. I am experiencing weird flashes of empathy with the freezing characters in the story, only to be returned the the sweltering heat wave of my own reality. Urrgh, I think I am getting quezzy from the contrast!
And I keep craving salad and ice cream!
The brake in the storm still held when, at sunrise, they reached the outcropping where the strangers body still sat, a frozen white statue in a white landscape. The woman was practically naked, her skin was pale as the snow that eddied around her. Her hair fell straight and seemed to be made of the icicles that covered it. She looked like some kind of life-like ice sculpture.
Meanwhile, the temperature in here is around 90 F. The heat is overwhelming. I am experiencing weird flashes of empathy with the freezing characters in the story, only to be returned the the sweltering heat wave of my own reality. Urrgh, I think I am getting quezzy from the contrast!
And I keep craving salad and ice cream!
