I threw up. Waking up throwing up as I entered work. From cold to colder, and the snails silver trails on the carpet, and falling dust as I slammed the door, was all too much.
Rubbing my legs against a ticking radiator, grabbing every last bit before putting the trousers back on,
lying on the floor with my head against the PC tower, warming my ears against a vibrating computer fan
quite cold toes and a white sock heel,
but hot laces from a car heater, like microwaving a witch.
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