Baby It’s Cold Outside


His hands froze from the chill of the wind. Jared had ween walking for days, always a slow pace. not really much else to do when someone wrecks your home. It took it him months to find that Whirlpool box and before that it was behind the train station as usual. Actually that sounded like a good idea. Time to get back to your roots, he thought.

He wondered down Houston. Even though it was dawn out, the bright lights from the AA center still made his eyes water. The tears reminded him of how damn his black wool jacket was. It’s funny how quickly you forget and remember something. He had a lighter and would occasionally fire up the left breast in an attempt to melt the small ice embedded within the fibers. He looked over and a lady walking her dog stared at him.

“Excuse me miss? I hate to be a-” Jared said.

“I’m sorry I don’t have any money” She answered back. Her hand tugged the leach as he picked up the pace.

He followed on past the corner of the Olive and began down the brick walk way. He hopped the first two platforms and started asking around for a few bucks. Consistent “no’s” almost as if they were reading from the same script. Dammit! Don’t they know it’s cold out here? Don’t they know my shoulder’s have black spots from an iced over jacket?

He walked to the last platform. No one was over there. No train ever went on the fourth platform. Then he saw it. Here was my chance for warmth. My chance for redemption. 7-11, Shell, they all kicked him out when he just wanted feel his feet again. They’d be sorry now. He jumped over the rail and noticed some of his old supplies beside grass valley where he left them years ago. An old Pokemon blanket, several branches he used to fight off other’s at night, and an assortment of McDonald’s wrappers from two blocks down.

Quickly he stacked the wood in a triangle. Placing the wrappers underneath, while the blanket on top. He also placed some dead leaves and twigs for good measure. This was it! No more loud headphones. No more getting kicked out. No one cared about me anyways. He flicked his BIC. The flames arose. Everything caught fire like the 4th of July, even the rosy cheeks of Picachu began melting. He took off his jacket. The flames rose higher! The sweat poured down his face. Some like it hot alright, he thought. He began striping more clothing off. He couldn’t believe how warm he was. It was like Vegas in the summer! He started to scream with joy.


He kneeled over it like Jimi Hendrix and fans more air into flames.



Frank was having a doughnut in the black and white. He almost spilled his coffee turning up the radio.

“All units please be advice. We have a Homeless man running around naked and starting fires at Victory Station.”

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