Everything is cold. So cold. The ice on my bare back is melting into water and sliding across my skin, and then I crash into the snowbank, my eyes closed. I’ll need to put a load in the dryer when I get home.

All around me the air is frigid. I feel the texture of the cold snowy slush up against my arms and, I shiver, on my neck. A nice hot shower would be nice.

The sky is gray. My nose is red. As I release the warm air from inside me it too turns cold, freezing even as I stare at it. The thought occurs to me: Can I keep hold of anything in this world, or will it all leave me? I push the thought away and focus again on the moment. I wish I had my a mother. Everything would be different.

I am trying not to contemplate; to think at all. My eyelids flutter open at the invasive sound of two feet crunching through the snow toward me. I lift my head up to see the face.

Although my surroundings seem to disappear and along with it the cold, I feel a shiver run down my spine.