The snow seems to me like God is covering the wickedness of the earth with a hush.
I watched sparks fly as the plow scraped the interstate. The sign on the back read, “Stay Back. Do Not Pass,” but as our lanes merged together, I was parallel with the driver. Should I maintain my pace or slow down? There is no precedent in this southern climate.
The voice in the radio informed commuters that there were no major accidents to report. But stay off the roads.
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