Writing Prompt No. 73
Niklas wrestled with the cord that was wrapped around his hand.
His thick gloves made it difficult for him to move his fingers.
“Niklas?” said Hans. “We need to keep going. The storm is just up ahead of us.”
“One minute,” said Niklas nodding his head. “ I can’t seem to move my fingers.”
The dogs were becoming restless and the sky was darkening minute by minute. The storm rumbled in the distance with heavy snow.
Hans pulled his balaclava up and over his nose and pushed his goggles firm onto his face. He patted his hood down close to his head. Niklas continued to struggle. Hans made his way over to his friend choosing his path with care. The ground was unsafe but there was no other option. The dogs were shifting and howling.
“Niklas?” said Hans reaching out his hand. “What has happened my friend?”
Niklas lifted up his now ungloved hand. His fingers were black and frozen. There was no movement left. Hans placed a thin inner glove over Niklas’s hand and another before adding a third heavy thick outer layer. He grasped Niklas’s shoulder.
“Come, Niklas. The dogs will take you.”
He helped Niklas onto the sledge covering him with layers of heavy blankets. Snow was falling in large fat flakes. They couldn’t see anything now.
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