Tightly packed around the coals, the people in their dismal clothes shudder as the wind cuts through. Their hands burn as they hold them close to the dying heat. Their small hairs are singed. In the towers above them, raucous music blares behind thick, insulated glass. Lights pulse. Laughter is heard from within. Steam rises from the tops of the towers, warming the cold clouds above, while the people on the street look up with fevered eyes and wonder at the sensations they might feel if they had anything but numbness in their freezing bodies.
Paddy Dobson
28th January 2022