For feck’s sake…. Has someone just turned the heating up? Turn it down will you… Open the window please…Please get me something to drink… Can somebody please turn of the frigging heating… I am burning up here. It’s November and everyone else is wearing jumpers and hoods and leg warmers and boots, and I’m melting. I push my rosie cheeks against the window, they are cool and cooling. From outside the train, I may look like a window licker. From inside train, fellow passengers may be wondering why I press my cheeks alternately against the train window. To clarify, it’s the cheeks of my face I am pressing against the window, my jeans are on and my buttocks covered. Perhaps the glass of wine didn’t help, but it does help some ways. My comfort is cold glass, so I find myself sidling up to buildings, doors, windows, display cabinets…. with glass… upon which I can press my rosie cheeks, and absorb the cool.
Fot Hushes (a follow-on to Coloscopy Adventures of Another)
Vicky Galbraith, 14 November 2011