Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Winter in Kaifaqu

The wind's blowing through the building, but the few people out, almost all of them without hats, don't seem cold, though even without the wind, it's only 25ºF. It's not the cold that's so bad, with the face the only thing uncovered and stinging but not too unlovely, but the fear of being about to be cold, the anticipation of it. How is it that anyone's out without a coat on? But again you're wondering, lips chapping just enough, always at this time, enough to warrant Chap Stick in the right pants pocket. Dissatisfied with the warmth of an apartment, which dissatisfaction you can't imagine out in the cold, but in the apartment, you bundle against a cold you suspect you don't yet feel, but you never really feel it. Your hands chap in their restlessness.

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