cocooned

Enough already with the cold. We walk into town bundled up – mummified.

I feel a little removed from the world encased in layers of polypropylene, fleece, wool and down, behind sunglasses, in heavy boots, but I still breathe the 0-degree air directly into my lungs and it invigorates me.

Clothes muffle all my senses: I hear only my breathing, the hard crunch of boots on ice. I smell the damp wool of the scarf over my mouth. I see fractured sunbeams through icy eyes. And I feel good. A little self-centered, maybe, but good.