Day of the Blizzard
It was probably just a fluke. Perhaps an accidental click of a mouse. I don't remember exactly how I got there. What I do remember is that at first I thought it was just a joke, a mistake, maybe fake news. It could be an old satellite image, I thought. Something from some long-forgotten hell centuries ago. I checked the page source. It was real. And it was happening right now. An ominous blob of — of what? Rain? Smog? Locusts? — was creeping up the Atlantic coast. I could only wish it was something so benign. But deep in my heart, I knew it wasn't. The colour code for rain is blue. Smog is yellow. Locusts are brown. This was white. And white can only mean one thing: snow. A death cloud of snow. And it was headed our way. I might be the only one who knows our collective fate right now, I thought. Here in my little den in the east end of St. John's, I imagined other residents blithely chatting to workmates or shuffling around WalMart, oblivious to the impending doom. No ...
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