Don't ask

How does that work?

I was bundled to the max.  I had a scarf in place OVER the hoodie, and over the secured-under-the-chin-and-totally-zipped-up jacket.  Cold air was not getting in, so how - how - did a chip of frozen windshield snow find a chink in the impermeable layers?

I felt that minuscule frozen menace the moment it began to pinball down the front of me; and I mean past the defenses of the knotted and tucked scarf, to inside the coat and hoodie.  It never even hit my chin or grazed a cheek.  Amazingly, it sailed unimpeded over the neckline of my t-shirt to somehow bank inextricably to the area of my unsuspecting decolletage.  From there it began a free fall of epic proportions, even though it should have (by all rights and scientific data) melted upon entering the realm of my mid-life-lady-hot-flash-mixed-with-the-steam-bath I created by layering.

But it didn't.

I was scraping the window of the Duke like a woman possessed, thinking to myself how odd it was that I actually felt pretty comfortable out there in the sub-zero stuff, with an approximate windchill of negative twenties+ (or is that 'negative twenties minus'?).  The wind was blowing, and luckily I found I was on the right side of it, and the churning ice storm I created was whipping away from me. 

Then, just at that moment, the breeze stopped....and it happened.  That pimple of ice sailed undetected across the car and impossibly enough into my coat, where it tumbled under the t-shirt, from my chest, to my abdomen, to - I would swear - straight towards my bellybutton.  Before that happened, I raised my arm against the intrusion and squished the crumb of moisture.  My! but that was cold.

And as shocked as the sudden cold against my skin was, [shh, don't repeat this to anyone] it was bracing-ly refreshing.

Bbbr-r-r-r-r....no more of this extreme cold stuff, if you please.