Image by Yours Truly!
Written for Friday Fictioneers
The country had never seen such bitter cold before. The cold had penetrated into his old weary bones.
He saw the golden flames of a fire in the distance and started walking towards it in hope. He might be able to request the people to share their bonfire with him. They wouldn’t refuse an old man.
As he walked further, the flames of the fire kept rising up. What he thought was a bonfire was actually a row of huts on fire. As people howled and ran around with buckets of water, he crouched, drawing warmth.