A fire was blazing merrily in a stove, casting a ruddy glow over the floor of the room.
Azima felt warm in her house. She watched snowflakes drifting in the north wind outside the window while listening to the crackling of the flames in the fireplace. In the past, when winter had come, she would have suffered severe frostbite on her hands and her hand skin would have chapped very easily. It was a memory from her childhood. Back then, she had had to rummage through rubbish in search of food every winter. After moving to the Sleeping Island, her hands got even worse because of the long-term exposure to salty seawater.
After all these years, she was already accustomed to the pain of frostbite. For her, it was nothing compared to the misery of being a tramp on the streets. However, right now, there were only a few shallow cracks on her fingers. She did not feel any pain or see any blood in them. She enjoyed this pain-free winter. She had not had such a comfortable experience for years.
