He thought he’d have some serious trouble adapting to the frigid cold. Turns out the inhospitable weather was the least of his problems.
“You gonna eat those?” she asked, motioning towards the last sleeve of chocolate chip cookies.
She was a world-renowned glaciologist with a tiny frame and an insatiable appetite for sweets. He’d never seen anything like it.
He took this gig in the most remote place on Earth to escape romantic unpredictability. He’d been burned too many times already.
And yet here he sat in the dining hall, completely smitten.
“All yours,” he said with a helpless grin.
The Weekday One Hundred 