On a Cold Night

Winter was still barely ebbing away that night. It was cold and the wind whipped at my skin the whole way to the bar and yet when I got in, it still felt cold - to me anyway. I was miraculously offered a seat by an elderly man who insisted I sat on this crooked stool at the end of this table. I felt guiltily obliged.

As the night went on, I could feel the cold from outside finding its way in, maybe perhaps the entrance door left ajar...or perhaps it was all in my head. I shivered and hugged myself to keep in what warmth I had left and swore when more people came in through the door, letting in another wave of cold. What more, I didn't know any of these people and they were walking in my direction.

I should probably end this story there because I made a friend that night by striking some slightly awkward conversations about my career aspirations and my strange interest in minimalism. I guess that was it really. I didn't have to do much more than that and suddenly the room seemed to warm up.