• The cold biting wind spreads Jack Frost's fingers over my window. The fire inside is desperately fighting to stop the cold at it's portal. Unwrapping myself from my blankets, walking waking, and warming. I start to the fuel, and with sudden gusto, I hastily feed the inferno. I feel it's searing warmth on my face, balanced by the clod nipping at my backside.
    The wind now kicks up, it is pompous and does not like to be negated. It forcefully pushes on my window, and pulls away my warmth. Frantic to guard it, I begin to feed the fickle fire. But the cold, the cold is worse, vouchsafing only itself.
    With a last effort, I enrage the flame, and it explodes forth, and the wind stops, beginning to creep back. But now I am burnt by my own hubris, the fire has become too hot, and has whisked it's burning soul too fast.
    The fire slowly dies, and the wind is brought anew. It causes the branches to scratch and tap my window, and I know it is laughing at me. Showing me that it cannot be beaten by some feeble human creation.
    Enraged I curl my fingers around a small pebble and hurl it at the wind. And with a pop, the window pane shatters. Horror strikes my face like an icy hand as I realize what I have done. Not only have had I been unsuccessful in my assault, I had only ended up aiding the demon in taunting me.
    Snow swirls on my floor, biting my feet and numbing them. As the wind gathers around me I grow frantic and yell "Begone devil!" The wind dies down, leaving me. The snow stops falling around me, and everything is still. The wind is gone, but now I am cold, colder than before.
    And I am alone.