#Chapter57
I walk down the road with my hands warm in my jacket pockets. Sunlight filters through the forest beside me, bringing a kiss of heat to my face in the cold air around me. The cold doesn't feel so cold anymore, only a sensation that neither pleasures nor hurts me. I'm sure if it were snowing, I'd feel differently, but right now I am content. It reminds me of when I would wake up in the middle of the night, hungry. The chill from the fridge would caress me as I stood with the doors wide open. I would look over the same foods until my snack standards lowered. My problems used to be much simpler then—disappointment over the fact that my mother ate the last piece of that evening's dessert, or maybe, at the most stressful, a poor test score in one of my classes.
