I step outside, and immediately wish I hadn't. The wind knifes through my clothes, cutting through flesh muscle and bone and slicing my soul to ribbons. I take a step backwards in defense, taken aback as always by the bewildering ferocity of the winter in this strange city. Every ounce of energy cringes away trying to hide behind the clothes barrier, bruising with failure. My eyes are about to water, my nose immediately numb. I already have to pee. I put my head down and scurry across the paths, mind intently fixed on the centrally heated auditorium that awaits me.
It's the only thing gets me to actually walk all that way.
Winters are miserable sometimes, despite the inner awe I always have because of my temperate weather childhood.
