frosty morn.
Feisty chill, surrounds,mist hanging over backyard; sun mild against heavy rugged coats. He spoke steam escaping on each breath. "Once more with feeling" exasperation obvious.
Tried twice already she is feed up cold damp hungry, craving the wood fire inside.
Shit shit shit. Her lips blue coldness quivering. "alright one more time and that's it.
Grass white with frost crackles scrunches as she positions her feet firmly, delicate female hands ashen; gripped hard the razor sharp old axe.
Lifting slowly axe head gently pumped sholder blades; sucking in the cold air from depth of toes, paused, flurry breath exhaled knees buckling whoosh, the axe slicing the frosty air.
Still she missed the bloody chooks neck