the cube

Downtrodden breath, gasps, groans, screams... Goosebumps and cold streams on the back. When they finally run out of steam, melting snow is everywhere, perhaps even in shorts. Disheveled, flushed, laughing. Louis jumps on one leg, trying to shake the mud out of his ear. The whale is on his knees and gasping for air. Her cheeks are glowing, her lips are bright, as if made up. Roswo is covered with snow dust, like a cake with powdered sugar. He shakes himself off and sneezes funny.

Tom lies on his back, arms outstretched, a cold mess melting behind his collar. The heart is pounding. It's disgusting, and great, and cleanly shakes out a hangover. He got it more than the rest - these devils united, knocked him to the ground and with four hands stuffed snow by the scruff of the neck. Kitty holds out her hand to him, smiling.

Get up, Tommy. You will get sick.

“Bastards,” he says with a laugh. He sits down, holding on to her icy wet fingers. She helps him shake out what has not yet melted. Lou