I snake my arms and legs into the softness of my long johns. On top, I layer a long-sleeved shirt and jeans. Pinching the shirt cuffs, I wriggle into a thin sweatshirt, then a thicker one. Two pairs of socks. A knit cap. Fingerless gloves. I am now prepared to step into . . . my living room. My son is shirtless and barefoot. As always, he and his father laugh at my attire. I’ve been examined and found healthy. My blood checked; all systems go. My unusual chill is just my aging body protesting winter. I’m colder every year.
Betsy Ellor is the senior editor for Words Unbound Studio. When not writing she spends her time hiking in the woods of Massachusetts and seeing how many layers she can wear and still move. Twitter & Facebook: @bewordsunbound.