Free Whore Diaries II: Adventures in Independent Escorting by Tara Burns

branch in front of my face. See? The forest will move your feet.

The crunch of my boots is still steady, the only sound in the world now that the owls have found each other.

I want to feel the cool air on my skin, but that's stupid. My hot sweat would turn to ice in seconds. Soon, though. 

My feet smell home on the trail before the scent of smoke reaches my nose, and I unzip my parka, my flannel, and my polar fleece. I pull my smart wool shirt up high on my chest, and I dance the rest of the way in the cold dark air.