Do you need winter to enjoy summer?

We walked briskly down Bourbon Street, convincing ourselves that the cold wasn't nearly as bad once you started moving, generating heat. We are both northern people, grew up in the same state and are accustomed to a cold that's actually much colder, but somehow it seemed worse in New Orleans than it had in Detroit.

We charge past tourists, around the metal barricades that prevent cars from crawling down the street at night through the crowds. We fly by policemen on horses and through traffic on cross streets. We suffer the cold as people try to lure us inside bars, restaurants, strip clubs with a promise of heat that makes me think of the summer when they promise the cold and everyday when they promise cheap booze and dancing.

She's wearing her grandfathers green wool military issue coat which is large enough to accommodate two of her inside of. Her knitted cap is pulled down to just above her eyebrows, which are also knitted (from the cold). We stop in front of the club that she works in and I hug her goodbye. The light inside is pink and it glows on her cheeks, which are red. She turns quickly and walks inside and I shove my gloved hands in my pockets and retrace my steps.