Fifteen minutes ago, at the library, a woman standing next at the cart next to me suddenly spoke to say, \”It\’s cold out there. It makes my hands hurt, too.\”
For a moment I was taken aback and had no adequate response. How could she have known that my hands were hurting? Then I glanced down and saw the ghostly white wrists and sections of finger contrasted by the purple knuckles and scarlet backs of the hands.
\”Ah, yeah. The Raynaud\’s. Didn\’t think I\’d need my gloves today.\” I grinned at her, a bit sheepishly, from one invisible gimp to the next. I don\’t take care of myself as well as I should, sometimes.
Winter is here, though it\’s only October. I drove through snow flurries today in Northern Virginia.
My body does not like the cold. Ask anyone who\’s ever touched my ass on a winter night. All the better for snuggling, though.
