‘Tis the Season
Copyright 2012 by Lisa Worrall
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“What am I doing?” Isaac had meant to ask the question in his head, but judging by the stiffening of Beck’s shoulders as his friend walked ahead of him, he needed to practice his talking to himself technique. He tucked the sleeves of his thick Aran sweater further into his gloves and thanked God… well, his mom, which was close enough… for finding his father’s spare waders in the garage, as he sank into a fresh pile of snow with every step. He’d thought that thermal underwear, jeans, three T-shirts and two sweaters would keep him warm, along with the waders and two pairs of thick socks. He’d been wrong. The cold air bit through the myriad of layers he wore and he clenched his jaw tightly in an attempt to keep his teeth from chattering.