Sunlight bled through the gap in the curtains causing Tim to wake from his slumber. He was still tired despite having had an exceptionally early night. He hadn’t had that much to drink he was sure and it wasn’t like hangover tiredness at all. Maybe it was the long busy shifts from the last month finally catching up with him. He stepped out of bed and shivered, it was incredibly cold. Had Mary left the window open again? Quickly pulling on a dressing he tottering down the stairs to the kitchen and boiled the kettle. Out the window he could see the garden frosted over and large icicles dangled from the drainpipe. They needed cleaning out again but there was not a cat in hell’s chance he was going to it today, he wasn’t going to spend Christmas laid up in Hospital like last year. He made himself a cup of tea and switched on the radio, the air headed DJ was babbling some ridicules drivel about armies of Robin Red Breasts attacking in people in a festive take on that Hitchcock movie. That was the last of the milk, Tim rinsed out the bottle and crossed to the front door, opened and placed the empty in the milk crate. He picked up the three new bottles which had a thin layer of frost on them. He tutted, the birds has got at the tops again, the little swines. He closed the door and he heard against the glass window, quickly he opened it again and saw on the doorstep a small robin, clearly now dead and covered with blood. Sighing he grabbed some newspaper and wrapped the bird up in it and put in by the door step and returned to the kitchen to set about his breakfast. It was cold, there was frost on the inside of the windows from where the condensation had frozen.
Breakfast done, Tim attempted to have a shower but found the boiler need to be reset, so with about twenty minutes for the water to heat up he decided to get the wood burner going. He opened the fireplace doors and screwed up some old newspaper for bedding, and mixed in some kindling, small logs and a tiny bit of coal, realising he had left the matches out in the kitchen he left for a moment. Upon his returned he saw there was a crack on the front room window, cracked on the inside. Odd. He investigated a little bit and found a soot covered bird dead on the window ledge… it must have come down the chimney. Shaking his head he lit the fire and went upstairs for a shower. Once dressed, he pondered something. He hadn’t seen Mary all morning, where was she? He called her phone and it went to answer phone.. Shrugging his shoulders, he put on his thick coat and cloves and made for the wooden shed. As he approached it he saw something through window, not clear as it was still frozen over, as he grew nearer he could see the door slightly ajar, maybe a tramp had forced the lock and taken refuge overnight. He pulled it open, on the floor was a frost cover body. It wasn’t a tramp, it was Mary, her face covered in in dried and frozen blood, emanating from a pulpy mess where her eyes used to be.
Ragtag Daily Prompt: Frost