The night left us chilled nearly to the bone save for the fire we'd started with sake and stoked with lights and music and a shared sense of being completely and utterly lost. It didn't really matter where we were. The longing for some warm interior was slightly less than the life affirmation of running down the streets, taking the freezing wind into our lungs. We were probably too old to be doing this. That didn't matter, either. No one knew us here.

We found the way back somehow through winding streets filled with color. The warm interior was drastically lacking in pigment, comparatively. Can't be exciting everywhere, or there's no rest.

Three became two. It was late; made sense. We walked through dark passageways, up stairwells, across empty rooms in our socks. The destination was warm and wet, discovered on the first polyester-cotton blend step onto the damp stone floor. This and other fabrics were set aside.

The water was very hot, and perhaps the evening's inebriation sped up the typical slow descent into it. A deep breath and a rush of warmth flowed over our bodies. A moment until the water's heat and the bodies' chill reconciled with one another.

We spoke of things both mundane and profound. Things that may never have been discussed in any other possible time or place. Things possibly never to be articulated again. And yet, it was the moment of silence that felt strongest. The unsaid; the untouched.

The inevitable return to daily existence loomed ahead. We accepted this fate; such is life. And quietly reached for our towels.