A blast of cold air swept by like a spirit. It made them shudder.
His hands were stuffed in his coat pockets. She slipped her left hand into his right pocket and took his hand.
He jumped a little.
“What is it, David?”
“It’s just ... my mother used to hold my hand that way when I was a boy. Sometimes in the winter, we would go for walks like that.”
“Would you like to go for a walk?”
“Yeah,” he said, squeezing her warm hand.