Today’s Word: Interlard
As I exited the automatic sliding doors a plume of warm air followed me into the night, enveloping me, if only for an instant, before the cold November night dared touch my bare face. And I thought, in that moment and for several more after the cold had claimed me, how this similitude of vitality and safety, was no more true than crocodile tears when closely examined – just more scummy bottom feeder water, leaking off a heartless beast's eye. For no warmth could come out that building save a kind of mechanical heat; the breath of machines, cooking their numbers endlessly in dim corridors where children will never laugh. It was at that moment I knew my heart was somehow interlarded from the place – as separate as heaven from earth.
I would never belong. I would never return