BURNING SNOW.4

And that is where the trouble always begins.

He pushes away, but not at first, then pulls her into his car.

She stares at the heat surging from the dashboard blowers and

warms her fingers against them, teeth chattering, eyes silent

with despair that jerk to life with a terrified glance over her shoulder.

But there is nothing outside in the world waiting to get her. The

young man stares at her with wonder and his finger touches his lips

still wet from her kiss. "Do I know you?" he wonders aloud, looking

hard at her face, trying to remember. "No," is all she says. "But there is time."

He did not ask further for he considered her delusional and near death and

shifts the transmission into drive. "Don't leave," whispers the dusty, invisible

voice. The young man slams on the brakes. "Did you hear that?" terrified he

demands she answer. "Yes they are fearsome and intend things I do not

understand." "No, that voice telling us not to leave," Sadly her head shakes,

her eyes once again well with tears. "That is the problem. They never do."

With a pull of the door handle she pushes out into the frozen white night.

He makes no effort to stop her so paralyzing is his fright. Standing at the

door she turns back to him. "Help me!" she begs, her voice thin yet demanding

and with that she shuts the door. Wind gusts and sheets of tiny ice particles

slam against the car windshield making a swishing sound and the young man

rubs the steam from the windows and through the swish of the storm sees

no sign of her. Suddenly his car engine stops The heaters once blowing hot

now ice cold as though frozen in time and he rubs his cold fingers across the

passenger seat. Snow from her slight shoulders gone, as though never there

and his face contorts as his head spirals down against the steering wheel.