A Cold Day in Hell

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I could see my breath in the air.

The minivan didn't want to start (I had to move it) and even the trusty Subaru expressed reluctance.

Itty-Bitty City glowed orange-gold in the early-early against the white-blue chill of the sky.

On the walk from the shuttle lot my legs - bare under the skirt - froze bright red and tingly and the tips of my ears started to hurt. I even had to stick my hands in my pockets (alternately, the other being occupied with holding the coffee).

It was 15 degrees. It was glorious.

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