The Storm

As I make my way through the hellish white I am beginning to wonder exactly why it was that I agreed to attend this evening. She’s constantly pulling at my left arm. I don’t know why she chose such an adequate footwear in this weather anyway! Pushing on through the sheets of snow that sting as each flake hits my cheek, I see the golden glow of my mother’s house. The silhouettes of dancing bodies through the curtains. I can feel the warmth as I watch. I know what lies ahead, behind that door. It’s always the same…An evening of infuriating, mind-numbing conversation. Their naive minds are not interested in the ramblings of the likes of me.

We reach the door.

As I prepare for the hours of mockery and tongue-biting ahead, the door opens and with my wife by my side we both greet her with a smile.

 

Napier.

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