The Hedgehog

I see the morning break,

The sky is an orange wash, plagued with clouds.

Silence.

I force myself to stand,

My joints struggle to support me.

Slowly,

Slowly,

The frost has sunk its teeth into the icy grass,

Treading softly, I feel each brittle blade crush beneath me,

Slowly,

Slowly,

I notice my breath becoming shallow,

I can see it before me, white clouds.

I feel the beat of my heart becoming louder,

It feels as if it might escape, burst out of my chest.

Slowly,

Slowly,

Something stirs in the distance,

My head darts,

My heart bounds,

The cold stings my eyes.

Slowly,

Slowly,

Then the wind comes, whipping my skin,

My legs burn, my feet are numb.

The trees lean together with the wind, their leaves bristle.

Slowly.

Then all I can hear is a roaring, it becomes increasingly unbearable,

Hitting my eardrums like a knife.

I see a blur of vivid colour getting larger with the noise,

It moves towards me, I cannot escape,

I am stunned.

I roll myself into a tight ball.

Then silence.