Ice pellets struck his skin like hundreds of tiny needles. His work boots were soaked from the freezing rain and pulled on him like lead weights. His leather gloves had grown cumbersome from the rain, and he had sacrificed his hands to the icy cold to get the work done faster.
One of the other workmen swore behind him, but the words and their meaning were far off. Distant from his current reality. He worked with one of the other man to lift the window they were installing into place, but in his mind he was already in his shower, jets on full.
The hot water stung more than the ice pellets had, but it was a good pain. His fingers tingled, his skin warmed to a bright red, as though he had spent a relaxing day lying on a hot beach in Nassau rather than a miserable day spent working in Kalamazoo.
Hot water streamed down his face, down his back, over his feet that had so recently felt like frozen blocks of ice. It--
"Get your head in the game, Richie."
He was jolted out of the steamy heat of his shower back to the cold, wet construction site.
He grunted and reached for the drill.