January (Part III)

Felix fell into a stupor and began rummaging in the dark.

"Where is that bottle of alcohol? I've got to fall asleep."

"Why do I frighten you so," she asked innocently. She wrapped her gown seductively around his warm blooded body. He sensed his blood vessels freeze into snowballs.

"Your skin is icy thin and translucent like winter's breath," he spoke poetically.

"Oh darling, go on! Don't stop," she laughed. The arctic chill from her lips bit into his ear.

"But why torture me so? You should return to the cold if that's where you've come from." He uttered those words resolutely and dug into his bed seeking rest. She quickly descended on his bedside and flickered like a blue light.

"Wake up," she commanded, pinching his cheeks. He felt her breath tickling his spine. The tendrils of her hair fell like silver dollars, and he reached out silently to touch her.

"I'm a very lonely thing drifting in the wintry night. I am alone without a compass or purpose of direction. I have wanted to meet you, and how often have I gazed from the outside of your window. I'm jealous of you painting the dawn. So I must know now. Will you paint me?"

He contemplated the rarity of such a muse Her presence seemed so ethereal and unworldly. He pondered if such a beautiful thing could be mastered by the canvas.

"Yes, I'll paint you," he resolved at last. He felt a surging rise in his belly. The warmth in his exuberance felt like a yellow leaf across her skin.

"Ah, to be human and vibrant. How I wish to be in the skin of flesh. Your life seems very little to you. But to the other spirits, it is great." Those were the last words January uttered before she floated from the room.

"I'll be back tomorrow," she whistled.