From the cracks in the walls and through the wooden door, gusts of freezing air rushed in and pierced her body. The thin shawl failed to keep the cold away, the rough coarse-woven cloak she had wrapped around her waist had stiffened and she felt it on her like a second, dried skin, her legs crystallized inside the thin-soled, worn shoes she had tied with thick twine at the bottom of her ankles. Despite the unbearable cold, thin bands of sweat wrapped around her forehead and then flowed down the sides of her eyebrows, fogging her entire face. Her chest rose and fell breathlessly, shivers ran through her back and spine. She trembled all over, like a newborn puppy unprotected by any fur, warmed by no embrace. Exposed, lonely, rejected. She took a deep breath and slowly dragged herself onto the frozen ground. A little further inside, she thought, a little further inside would be better.
She tried to get up from her corner. She barely stood upright and with an unconscious movement, more out of habit than purpose, shook off the scattered straw hanging from her tattered shawl. With great effort, she managed to take two or three steps before her legs gave way and betrayed her. Kneeling, she stood for a moment feeling the blasts of cold air on her hunched back, looking with the longing of the deprived at the lying bodies of the animals that stood out like small hills a little further inside. One more step. Slow breaths and clouds of breath. Two. A heavy smell of droppings and dung clogged her nostrils, but she welcomed it; in her mind, it was associated with warmth and comfort, with life itself.