It was past the hours of sleep as our close bodies stumbled straight into the darkness. Giant and joyful souls whispering to each other with things I don’t quite remember. “Let’s link,” I remember her saying. With my struggling understanding under the influence I replied, “what’s that?” Without saying anything or any hesitation and with gentle love she grabbed my hand and made half a circle with her arm and rested my arm inside it, then her arm engulfed mine. “Now, we’re linked.” She pushed the weight of her body against mine. Warmth came seeping in. It seemed like we found the perfect weapon to combat the coldness, and it felt like we were the first ones to do so. She rested her head on the side of my shoulder, trying to reach the top of it and failing in her shortness. Her nappy hair is all I can see now when I looked to the side, while her face is covered under its shadow. She might did all of that because she was cold. I don’t think I lend her my coat. Because I have the habit of feeling embarrassed of doing things that are considered “cliche.” It’s just that those things do not seem sincere or genuine, and I’d like to think of myself as sincere and genuine, so I always pursue it. Anyway, I remember her refusing my offer at some point when I realized that cliches are safe and are cliches for a reason. She had this shawl that wrapped her frail shoulders shyly. I remember falling deeply in love with her as she covered her dark smooth skin with that same grey shawl. I don’t know why. It just seemed lovely, a perfect picture. Something heaven sent. Just like the memory of her trembling slightly trying to fight off the cold. But then we were linked. And that meant something. Linked. Not in love, not yet, but we are linked now. The cold cannot come in, we are stronger now. Especially when she held my arm with both hands and pushed herself even closer into me. A place I thought is not possible to reach, she reached it. And she rested there, away from the cold. We stumbled into darkness again, and then into light as we passed under streetlights. We are now linked and illuminated. A giant and joyful shadow fell on the street, and kept us company. The small streets couldn’t hold us now. Couldn’t contain us. Yet, in an utterly fascinating contradiction, a tiny corner somewhere can be enough for us. As we marched forward into mysterious territories, stronger as we were, we stumbled upon such a corner. It was shaped as such, one giant room for a man my size and one tiny room with an afro shaped top for a woman like her. In between there was a middle space, shaped like a link. We got into that corner away from the coldness of the night, and we morphed into that space. We are still there now.