From The Cold

Keys clattered as my useless fingers tried to grip them with some sense of purpose. My ears numbed with the bite of unforgiving frost. We breathed out dragon smoke, watched it float off across the heavy air. Resplendent in her hard beauty, ice had covered the drive and front garden. The lawn, neglected for too long now shimmered in the unfamiliar shimmer of winter wear. A spider's web, glistening with frozen dew, caught my eye, made me pause again.
'I'm so cold! ' came a small voice from somewhere just above my knee. Swaddled in red coat, woolly scarf and oversized hat, just a little red nose could be seen of my girl.
'Come on then, concentrate!' I said to myself and with superhuman effort managed to ram key into lock and turn it without any icicle fingers snapping off.
Through the door we burst gratefully, giggling as we tripped over each other. Boots off, coats hastily discarded, we tumbled into the warmth of the living room. He'd already lit the fire and we breathed in its welcome smoky heat.
'My fingers tickle! ' came the small voice, clearer now without the scarf to muffle it. Mine tickled too with the tingle of cold and hot meeting, clashing. 'Hot chocolate! ' he announced, placing the steaming mugs on the table with a flourish, 'Now drink up, warm up and tell me all about it! '