This first snow won't be going away. Winter came in and cleared the table in one sweep of a long, cold arm and sat down in a chair to laugh maniacally. Oh yes, she said. I'm here for the duration.
Bitch.
She stuck out her icy foot and tripped me and I fell face-first into this most despised of all seasons. Don't get me wrong. I love Christmas. Just not winter. I got up and took a wild swing at her and she kept laughing as I landed nothing, my tiny fists sailing easily through her, an apparition.
I vowed that in March and April I will harness the power of the infinite sun and incinerate her into oblivion and she finally looked concerned. Bet last year's incarnation of winter failed to mention that the gig is on a tight deadline, or that it ends spectacularly for the cold.
So ha-ha to you, you evil bitch. Do what you have to do and get the fuck out.
