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From the outside, the ice rink looks like a large warehouse. It's an island of tall industrial

walls and tinted windows surrounded by a vast, gray concrete parking area. You approach

it on foot with the duffle bags lung over your shoulder. The sound of the canvas bags

swishing against the fabric of your clothes keeps time with your feet.

Overhead, the sky is bright blue. A few clouds drift lazily by, glowing gold around the edges

as they pass in front of the sun. It's a warm afternoon. Most of the people you've seen

out and about have been wearing t-shirts. There aren't many sweaters to be found on a day like this.

But your outfit is different. You have uncomfortable pants and a jacket. For soon,

you'll be in a world of ice and frost.

As you approach the sturdy metal and glass doors slide open automatically.

A gust of fridged air engulfs you. A stark contrast to the warmth outside.

It makes you think of the first moment you open up a freezer and the cold air rushes out.

You feel the skin on your cheeks tangle with the icy breeze.

It's a welcome sensation to step inside the chilled building.

You find yourself in a long, low-entry way. A dark ticket booth stands on your left.

It's only open during performances, competitions and games.

You walk past it and turn down a smaller hall on the right, which leads to the locker room.

...