The Freeze

She’d lived through storms before—named ones, catastrophic ones she wasn’t sure she really survived. Hurricanes that shut off the power and made even the strongest trees bend. Tornadoes that tore through and left shards of the past, unrecognizable. Thundersnow—beautiful light across the sky—until it weighed down the roof and collapsed it entirely.

After all that, she learned how to board windows, how to sleep lightly. She didn’t flinch when the sirens sounded anymore. She just walked to her safe space—no fanfare, no tears. Only the familiar heaviness beneath the protective gear.

But this time it wasn’t a storm.

It was winter like any other—except for the thaw.

She was emerging from the freeze with a warmth she’d been afraid of for so long. She shed her jacket and earmuffs. Stepped outside without armor.

She was reluctant at first, but spring came slowly—just a little early.

Soon the sun met her there.

It made her feel it was safe. It spoke of the future. It listened to her past. It marveled at her heart. Her shoulders dropped. She basked. She smiled. She reached.

Then the pressure dropped without warning.

The weathermen were quiet. No sirens. Nothing on the radar. Just the shift—the way the air changes before rain. The way birds go still. The way you trust spring too early, even after you swore you wouldn’t.

Nothing blew through. No front arrived. Only the silver hush of moonlight on frost. Only the windshield, iced over by morning, as if the warmth had only been an idea.

She tried to remember the protocol. How to board windows. How to duck and cover. But she couldn’t find her gear. She tried not to flinch—but everything was louder now. The wind found old bruises she thought were healed, striking like a pine limb snapping loose in the rain.

Now she watches raindrops streak the glass, light bending as it passes through. Still, her coat hangs on a permanent hook, not going anywhere. She doesn’t know how she got here—only that she mistook the thaw for the end of winter.

Instead, she’d been frozen out.

Here’s the mixtape.

Cold—Chris Stapleton
Blue Sky—The Allman Brothers Band
First Love—Thelma & James
Good Enough—Michael Marcagi
How’s It Going to Be—Third Eye Blind
Wherever I Go—Noah Rinker
Wasted Time—The Eagles
Shake the Frost—Tyler Childers
Goodnight Elisabeth—Counting Crows

Here’s what you may have missed:

Every week, Stories from the Jukebox gives us a prompt. Here’s my submission:

🎶 Sunday’s Jukebox:

📼 From the Jukebox Vault:

🍌 I wrote a bonus Saturday piece this past weekend. If you missed it, check it out now on my main mixtape page (or click the link…)

🪑 Southern Writers’ Guild:
If you haven’t visited MJ, Rick, and me over at the Guild yet, I’d love for you to check out this piece:

Grace Lynne Merritt

🎥 SWaG Feature of the Week:
We’re featuring Hank Cotton’s Ugly Duckling for eight weeks. Nine chapters have already been released and we’re about halfway through this first Hot Shot Trucker novelette. Start reading chapter one right here:

The Ugly Duckling- Ch.1