Prayers Are Like Wishes 9 Shocked

I turn the wrench clockwise and sigh, I hate my job, just everything about it. I look up at the blinky orange light. So tightening that didn't help. I look down at the cables and wires. This is ridiculous.

Why can't other people fix their own boilers? I look around the compact cupboard and notice one of the switches is flicked off. I shuffle my feet kicking over wellies and propped up umbrellas.

"You all right love?" a voice calls out.
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"Yes, Mrs Greendale, I'm fine." my eyes flicker up to the orange light, still flas.h.i.+ng. I turn towards the switch and gently flick it up. Just as I do so a rush of coldness goes through me fixing me to the spot. The coldness climbs from my fingers towards my head.

It's so cold yet it burns so much.