Fire and Ice

She stands so close to the fire that she can feel the heat of the embers touching her skin. The warmth is welcomed on this frigid night, and it thaws her frozen core. The numbness in her soul begins to subside. Her heart begins to beat. Her lungs begin to breath. Then, she remembers the storm that captured her life, and turned it into a sad and lonely ice sculpture.

So long she stood in the lonely silence that she had forgotten how wonderful it felt to move. She can move now, and feels more gratitude than she knew was possible. Even so, the fear begins to creep in. She remembers the sting of the storm, the pain that tortured her into stillness. The cruelness of the wind as it tried to knock her down and shatter her. What hidden strength bore her through the ravages of that evil winter? Does it still exist in her?

Her blood flows through her veins now, reaching out to each and every cell. Fear grips her. She loves the warmth of the fire, but doesn’t really trust it to last. If it leaves her, will she be able to withstand another winter? Fires are not dependable. They never have been. Only the winter is constant.

She is warm and alive now, and the thought of reverting back to ice is revolting. The fire could turn her to ash, and she could float on the wind for an eternity - or it could simply disfigure her, and leave her hopeless and empty.

What should she do? Should she trust this fire to burn? Should she return to ice? Should she jump into the fire? What will I do?