Ah, the chilly mornings of Autumn. I tend to keep my house cool at night, since I find it hard to sleep in a very warm room, so I often shiver a little as I pull off my covers a feel the tingly skin and goose bumps spread up my arms. I often feel the coolness of the morning most through a frisson on the back of my neck, the close-cropped hairs near my nape stand up. Then it’s a chilly shower and a little dance across the ceramic tiles, often with my cat Gigi walking in and out of the ensuite bathroom, meowing for her breakfast. I feed the cat and she purrs while she eats, oblivious to the cold of the kitchen ceramics icing my feet, even through my slippers. After putting on a shirt, I run down into the basement to grab a pair of jeans out of the dryer, which should almost be finished its cycle. As I enter the utility room, I hear the a clicking sound and a low whirring as the machine’s engine slows down and its rotation settles to stillness. I open the door and feel the moist heat billow out and caress my face for a second. I reach in and grab my toasty jeans. What a pleasure to slide them, so warm and so soft, straight out of the dryer over my legs. The warmth and softness persists for a few minutes as I run out into the cold, messenger bag pulling at my shoulder.