What turned off the switch?

by Anna Quimpo Maguire

These cold days always get to me. The ice from the ground that crumbles under faded footsteps somehow creeps its way up my back and sends shivers down my spine and burns off the tip of my nose. The grey sky surrounds this forsaken town as I move like a chess piece throughout the day of the same routine as it drones on and on. There’s never enough time though. No matter how much sleep I get, even if I snooze the alarm for another 15 minutes, the never ending feeling of drowsiness follows me everywhere. The nights are the worst. Because I hate going to the same cold bed and wrapping myself inside the covers. I’m all alone. Maybe every half an hour I’ll hear a car pass by, here and there. Eventually this loneliness cast over me that aches my once lively soul will lessen as my eyes shut close and my mind flutters to sleep. The next day will begin and everything will repeat. I despise the fact that lately life has turned me into this machine-like operating being. I don’t know what happened to the emotions that used to burn inside me.