The junkie was watching him again, as he returned home. It was understandable, they did seem to keep the same hours. She didn't try to conceal her interest in him. It seemed to take forever to get frozen his fingers to work the keys to his apartment. She smiled as she saw him fumble with his keys. She must have thought he was stalling on purpose, and taken that as an invitation.

"You fucked up?"

"Excuse me?", he asked, but the question was unnecessary. He knew what she was asking. Her condition was definitely an indication of her area of interest.

"Dude, you can't even open your door. You've got to be pretty fucked up."

"No, I'm just cold." She began to nervously cross the hall towards him.

"Yeah, well I was just out there, I didn't think it was THAT cold outside."

"I was outside for 3 hours, my fingers are frozen off." By now she was standing next to him.

"Well, you should put your hands in your pockets like I do.", and with that, she proceeded to slide her hands into his coat pockets. He placed his hands into his pockets and withdrew hers. "Burr, your hands are cold." She pulled her hands away from his.

"I was writing, it's hard to write with your hands in your pockets."

"So what do you do?"

"I work at the video store on 11th and Summit."

"And this job involves a of being outside in the cold writing."

"No, that's just something I do."