I woke up a few hours later. It was 6 P.M., and I had been asleep for 12 hours in this intense cold. There was a strange wind blowing through the apartment. It felt like a flurry of razorblades cutting at my skin. I needed to put on more clothes - anything to get rid of this unbearable freezing cold.
As I walked toward my bedroom, the wind biting at my skin, my dream seemed to have been true. Maybe soon the place will be covered in ice and rust. I didn't see how I could possibly survive another hour. My toes and fingers felt like they where about to fall off; they burned in the frigid air, tingled and were sensitive to any touch. Even warm water at this point would feel like boiling pitch.
I arrived at my bedroom and ruffled through the closet for more clothes. I found a few more sweatshirts, pants and socks. I put on everything I could. After I couldn't fit any more on my body, I noticed that the windows were completely black. My eyes felt like ice cubes, slowly freezing my brain.
The cold whipped, burned and strangled my body. The clothes did nothing to prevent it. I took everything from my closet and threw it onto the bed, then curled up inside of it with my bedcovers surrounding me in my nest of clothes. I felt like I would die any second, but after spending what seemed like an eternity in my womb of clothing and pillows I felt warmth coming from under the bed. It tingled like electric fire through my body. After a while my fingers and toes even began to thaw. I started to take off pieces of clothing until I only had a T-shirt and boxers on. Maybe the building is on fire, I thought. I even liked the idea.
I rolled myself up in the covers and leaned over the side to look at what was underneath. I saw a faint yellow glow coming from under the bed. The sight of it filled me with a strange, loving tingle.
I got out of the bed, dropped the covers and poked my head under the bed. The glow was emitting from an oddly shaped hole.
I crawled in deeper. I had this intensely positive feeling brewing inside of me the closer I got to the hole. I could see it clearly now. It's shaped like ... a man. The hole is shaped like me. It's mine. What does it mean? I didn't even care. I needed to get into it; I needed to feel its warm embrace.
I awkwardly jiggled out of my T-shirt and boxers and wormed my way in further under the bed. I could still feel the cold wind cutting at my legs, but it didn't matter to me now. This was the purest thing in the world.
I climbed into the hole. It fit me perfectly, and I started to slowly sink. At first the walls of the hole were metal and wood from the floors of the building, but then I felt the gentle touch of soil against my skin. The hole was holding me in its warm and beautiful embrace, and I never wanted to feel anything else. This was paradise.
Darius Poyer is a simple occasional writer who enjoys making people uncomfortable.
