Darlene, it could be said, was frigid.

Freezing, as a matter of fact. No one around her seemed to be uncomfortable, but she could just not get warm. People did think it odd that she was wearing layers in summer, but she passed it off to them as her being "thin blooded".

It did seem to help her landscape design business. Customers were sometimes so distracted by her winter coat, while they were sweating in shorts, that they agreed to some pretty expensive foliage.

Showering was difficult, at best. Even when the shower looked more like a Turkish Bath, with steam actually condensing on the ceiling, her teeth would chatter uncontrollably. Drying off was absolute torture. First off, it was like pressing ice into her skin. Secondly, The thick vapor of steam condensed on her chilly skin and left droplets of freezingly cold water immediately after she had just dried. Stepping out of the bathroom, not really being completely dry, illicited a scream every time.

Although her perspiration even seemed to freeze, any time she checked, it was liquid. It just felt frozen. Her breath never was foggy: it just felt like she exhaled an Antarctic blast. Her tears never froze on her face and her nose ran normally. But every tear streak sent chills through her and sometimes she was afraid that icicles were forming under her nose.

Dating was impossible and she was getting very lonely. Doctors could not help. Psychiatrists did nothing. Even the Shaman down the street gave up and he supposedly had grown a new leg on his dog, once.

She figured her life was over. There was no way to continue on. She sat on a park bench, fifteen feet from the river. She was trying to convince herself to jump in. But she didn't want to freeze to death doing it...