#-14

15 Jul 2007

On especially cold days they didn't even open the curtains. The landlord had let the frames shrink in the elements these past few years, and if given its freedom an otherwise imperceptible draught would gradually chill the room. That year was so cold that, in mid-January, she taped the edges of the curtains to the wall.

Later that month they both took the last of their year's holidays as the temperatures sank inexorably towards a record level. They stayed in the house for a week, fridge and freezer full and switched off and outside on the porch, snow piling up around the house and up the steps.

They made a nest out of quilts and listened to the radio, always holding their smoky breath during the weather: minus ten, minus twelve, minus... fourteen. As the season sat at its turning point they ate chocolate, wore scarves and told stories from when they were young.