Cold Reset

Heat radiated right out of the asphalt, so I ducked under the big maple to cool down. Up on the weathered wooden bench, somebody had left a chilled aluminum soda can. Tiny water droplets beaded all over the metal surface. I didn't bounce. I took one slow tilt and pressed my square yellow flank flush against the icy cylinder. Sssss. Instant thermal transfer. The damp frost soaked straight into my warm fleece seams. No jumping, no counting beats, just pure, frosty stillness under the rustling leaves.