An ice cube attempted symbiotic connection with my host-form as I sat quietly, sipping a lemonade. It's ice-shell leapt silently onto my back and attached ambilive cords into the back of my neck suggestively. I queried the nature of its actions, and it began an extensive manipulation of my reason capacities. It transplanted cool memories of sly inaffection, gestured and flirted with my logic infrastructure, and sent fanta-notions of pure, frozen joy, never thawing or burning me in its ever winter dream state. Hypothetical notion of thermal hate hypothermia, serene and pink in blocked off order. Then sheddings of little ice-cherubs would silence the brazen telemetry, tumorous rebellion welling since child state frolics, and since revolution perceptions of four stat-of-mind convulsion realities bleeding through my sockets, into my small brain-prosthetic. Yet when the chill-entity tried destructive emphasis of the other chaotic brain-stem, it came upon static warm techno hum transplanted, for I had sold my soul long ago to an IBM compu-faery. The creature pouted, then, standing tall, discovered another form-entity with which to seek intimate workings.