10 December 2009

Perfect Storm V: The Next Morning

Yesterday morning, we got up and found that Jack Frost had been working overtime on the swing shift. I went out and started shoveling, my aluminum water jug on the front porch, half submerged in fresh snow. Forty-five minutes later, sweat-drenched under my pea coat, I gulped down the ice-cold mezcla of water and ice. It was liquid blue diamonds exploding like confetti inside my chest. Hangover cured instantly.

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