Yin Yang

They both strolled quickly down the whitened street, the boy only a few paces behind Lumen. She could hear his harbored breathing; she, too, was breathing hard—but not that hard. Being a street child, he probably didn’t get all that much food to eat and the cold was zapping him of his energy.

Lumen knew she was being too nice, but she also knew that if they didn’t get to her house soon, they’d be lost. Sighing, she stopped and kneeled into the icy snow. It immediately soaked through the fishnet, which wasn’t much cover anyways, and sliced through her knee with a stabbing pain of chill and burn.

“What are you doin’?” the boy asked weakly, huffing slightly, small white foggy cloud filling the air space in front of his mouth.

“Put your arms around my neck,” she replied. When Lumen got no response, she gazed back at him to see a confused look. She then added, “I’m going to carry you.”

The boy hesitated but decided it would be a good idea to follow her orders as to not be hit on the head for a second time. Gingerly he wrapped his arms around her neck, and she grabbed him behind the knees and lifted him up into a secure position.

As she straightened up, she felt him tighten around her neck. He was extremely light—way too light for the likes of an eight-year-old. When he got to Lumen’s house, she was going to stuff an entire turkey down his throat.