Feeling the bite.

I walk out of my apartment. The chill hits me in a way I haven't felt before. It seems to burrow into my bones and wrap itself around the marrow. Instinctively I brace myself against the wind. Hunched shoulders, head down, arms folded. Hold myself stiff.
I want to wrap my scarf tighter and pull my hat lower, but I can't bring myself to uncurl my arms from around my chest.
Head down. Walk faster.
I sit at the bus stop. The metal seat tattoos my thighs ... so cold it feels like searing heat. I stand up. I walk. I stamp.
I clench and unclench my hands to keep the blood moving.




It's not even cold here yet.