All in all, it was just twenty-four hours without power or heat. Frigid cold though. How much I take for granted.
The snow covered all the windows completely, except for a few small streaks to peer through.
The wind rattled my home so fiercely I realized that the way my unit was shaped, I lived in a treehouse.
At times I thought the roof would blow off.
I wandered downstairs, but went back up, carrying my flashlight.
I tried to read by candlelight ( appropriately, Ancient Light by John Banville), then by flashlight.
The folks who built the fancy stationary goods company made their fortune, deservedly, with tiny reading book lights.
After the storm, which raged two days, mounds of snow were left. Mounds, like soft vanilla ice cream, like Ponds lotion in a tub, like snow.
The snow plow came by four times.
