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By Miriam H. Harrison

Content Warnings: Relationship Discontentment, Sexual references.

There were two kinds of cold in Eva’s life. One came from her husband – the other she kept to herself.

At night, she left their frigid bed for the moonlit sitting room. Here, the window spread wide. There was nothing to see outside but the snowy trees. But closer, on the glass, her reflection waited.

In her reflection, Eva found her satisfaction. The cold touch of glass caressed hungry places, and the window’s eyes reflected her deepest need.

Returning to bed, she felt her husband stir.

‘Sorry, love,’ she said, reaching for him hopefully.

‘You’re cold,’ he replied, turning away.

Miriam H. Harrison

Miriam H. Harrison writes strange and wondrous things from her home hidden among the boreal forests and abandoned mines of Northern Ontario. She is a regular contributor to Pen of the Damned, and updates about her published works can be found at

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