write about a story that lives in your joints or bones--10 minute free-write

Through winter, the summer sun slowly leaches out of my bones. Sun soaked up over months of perfect sunny days, hikes in the sere desert, where my bones are parched and caked. In the snow my bones remind me that heat exists somewhere, and my store of sunshine dwindles, dwindles over sleety days, foggy weeks, and overcast months. The story of long carefree days with no jacket, impromptu trips to the beach, climbing on the warm rock to nap after lunch, all the stories spin themselves out of my bones when they are most needed. As the tales are told each bone grows dim and shrinks, until rib by rib, metatarsal by radius, femur by iliac crest, my bones become Winter waiting to be warmed by Spring.