Warmth

Ameilia walked down the overgrown path she knew like the back of her hand. Carefully, she glided over the fallen branches until she reached a clearing. This empty land sent chills down her spine. She wasn’t used to the cold sky or the harsh winds that ruffled her nightgown. She prayed that if she stared a little longer, stepped a little closer, she’d be met with the warm yellow lights that poured out of the long gone window. She willed the scent of Shepard’s pie to replace the smell of molded wood paneling. 

“You’ll catch a cold like that.” Ameilia listened as Heather whacked at any branch that crossed her path.

“Mammy says no use coming out here. Not bringing anyone back.”

Ameilia continued her staring contest with the blackened bricks as she whispered, “I know that. Ain’t trynna bring no one back.”

“Then what you out here shivering for?”

“Trynna get warm.”