The black morning sky is starred; a surprise, as I wait for the prediction of snow to come true. I am coded to believe that a snow sky is black, and then white and then alive with movement . This sky is starry and still.
Technology has foreseen my future; super Doppler, radar, the tv with six inches of snow in Chicago and the storm is moving our way.
But that was last night, and this is this morning, and shall I believe what they’ve said or my eyes?
Maybe, just maybe, the folks in Chicago used up all the snow…
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology