I put on a sweater this morning and then a scarf (grey) and a coat (black) and a hat (maroon) and I still couldn’t feel anything when I got off the subway.
A few years ago I swore to myself that I would move to The South. There things are warm and pleasant. People don’t need scarves or hats or coats and drink out of glasses with umbrellas and listen to music that floats up into the hot humid air and dissipates, then disappears into the sun.
Just a few weeks ago I was running through Central Park in 70 degree heat thinking that I made the right choice.
Now.
Now there’s nothing but frozen air and hot cups of coffee with no umbrellas and the only music is the screeching of breaks and the honking of horns from people all trying to get to the next best thing. The next warm place.
I know there are people in other places, all,
Going to work and
Going to bars
And driving their cars and
checking their watches hoping,
hoping for the hands of time to speed them fast into spring,
away from The Chill.
Perhaps someday I’ll take a job anywhere doing anything just to get away from the cold.
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