Snow kept falling, and even his furry face from lack of shaving couldn’t keep his cheeks warm. It was an enormous effort to swallow the bit left in the canteen. Eating the last of the jerky nights ago took over an hour for his jaws working hard and slow, biting the dried meat. He thought back to why he had taken this path, no longer visible under wafts of white. He knew he would die here, deserved it, arrogant in his choice. Taking out a pencil, he scribed an apology to family, and drifted into the waiting iciness.
The Bag Lady 
Thanks for reading.
LikeLike
Well composed and dark story. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely write 🙌
LikeLiked by 1 person
good one C! ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you
LikeLike