Cold Heat

by Tim Simmons

“Ah, Professor Chadwick. Why, it’s been ages since I last saw you.”

“Why... Professor Littleton! It certainly has been ages! My God, man, you haven’t changed a bit.”

They both chuckled.

“How’ve you been getting along?” asked Chadwick.

Littleton pointed a thumb over his shoulder and replied, “Oh, you know, same old routine, I’m afraid. And you?”

“Each session tends to blend into the next,” answered Chadwick, pushing up his spectacles. “A bit monotonous, I’d say.”

“Yes, quite. But I’ve been thinking, lately, about something you may find quite useful. Would you care to hear it?” asked Littleton.

“I’d love to but please, make it quick. I wouldn’t want to be late for my three o’clock session, you know.”

“Nor would I, so I’ll be brief. You’ve no doubt heard of the cold heat phenomenon?”

“Yes...”

“It’s really an amazing thing that mere suggestion can override, if but temporarily, the reality of a thing. Suggest to the subject that she is about to touch something extremely hot, blindfold her, and then allow her to touch an ice cube or preferably, something a bit colder. Believing she is about to feel heat, she does!”

“Pardon me, professor, but why would I find that particularly useful? I’ve known that for years.”

“Yes, but I believe this can also work in the reverse!” exclaimed Littleton, eyeing Chadwick in anticipation.

“You don’t say! That is quite interesting.” Chadwick paused and glanced around. “God, it’s freezing in here!”

“Yes, I was about to say the same thing!”

The smoldering ground shook beneath them as a bell tolled from somewhere in the distance. A voice began echoing through the fiery caverns. All souls prepare for the three o’clock session. All souls prepare for the three o’clock session.