Freeze by keith pearson

Too cold to sleep even under these old blankets. The rattle of the open car is like a pile of bones falling down a hill of rocks. Sitting too long too damn stiff to stand. As though he could even stand in the swaying car. Watching the thick fog of their breath. How soon he asks til dawn…

keith pearson was born and raised in new hampshire and works at a local high school in the math department.