I’d say it was gut-wrenching, but that’s not quite right. Gut-wrenching is too cliché, doesn’t encompass nearly enough. Your guts aren’t just being twisted around, but twisted by a wrench of ice, while a thousand icy needles prick your skin, ghostly hands squeeze the breath from your lungs, and wintry sweat seeps out from your pores. And that’s to say nothing of the blood draining from your head like piss from a toilet, your mouth turning dryer than old parchment, and your muscles locking up with a rigidity unparalleled in the natural world.

You forgot to lock the van, and now you’ll delay the group’s departure by almost a minute.

Everyone is chatting and having a good time, and you have to find a way to bring up the bad news. It shouldn’t be a big deal, and you know it’s not, but your mind is a liar that your body can’t ignore. How do you trust your mind over your instincts? How do you rally your body around you instead of that… thing that’s a part of you? Are you even still you without it?