An Almost-True Winter’s Tale
I should’ve known better. This was just history repeating itself. After dark, but just before sunrise. Heavy snows three days in a row. Had to get up that early to be on time for my morning gig, so I rolled out of bed and headed outside.
Tall snow boots, puffy jacket, Andes hat to cover the ears, leather choppers lined with woolen undergloves. Garage door opener in one pocket, phone in another, and a lightweight snow shovel slung over my shoulder; I thought I was fully prepared. The goal was to clear the driveway before the plows got through, hoping to make clearing the street-side end easier, once the plows came through and dumped the street’s payload on the end third of my drive.
And then they’d come along once more, just to neaten the streets and undo all my hard work.
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Valley of the Trolls 