Yuri paused and glanced down at his bottle of ice. He'd been walking outside for nearly an hour, and that was all it had taken to freeze the little guy. He thought of his arms, his torso, and his head -- all sheathed in canvas and nylon and cotton. He was warm, sweaty even in some places. The water in the bottle was frozen.
"Take that, bottle," he thought to himself.
All this ruminating on his drink filled Yuri with the urge to buy a snack. At the next underpass, he found an open kiosk window and asked the lady inside for a small Snickers bar. The childishness of the request caused the attendant to giggle, which made Yuri blush. The water in his bottle, however, was still cold and pale as ice. It was ice.
After gobbling down the candy in two bites, Yuri hurried on, still a ways from his destination. The temperature was starting to dip, and he realized that he was walking, by necessity, on the colder, shady side of the street. In no time, Yuri was cold, his sweat now pinching his skin in chilly discomfort. The bottle of water was frozen as ever.
Soon Yuri passed a garbage can, where he threw away the wrapper of his Snickers bar. He took a few steps onward, before halting and turning back to the trash. Again without looking, he reached down into his shoulder bag and grabbed the bottle of ice. Yuri then tossed it into the bin and walked on.
