lesson
one
is breathing
underneath thick blankets and covered in wool socks my feet have always stayed cold. my mother would always worry that something was wrong but i guess a mothers job is to worry first and foremost while dad didnt care that much bless the man he would just say son some bodies are furnaces youre more of a fridge i said alright.
every couple of years mum would run me to the doctors and theyd look at me all bored well youve got poor circulation a casual sentence run-of-the-mill affliction something about valves not closing up properly i never listened too closely youre gonna have cold feet cold hands cold face cold lips all your life—they said each time judges to the guilty—cause son your heart aint that strong and in those funny-smelling offices of theirs one of the universes small jests was playing out at my expense.
go ahead; you can joke about it.
ive heard most of them anyway.
§