Standing in the middle of the road 4:56 am. In a world without sleep at least there is snow.
My computer stopped working.
Stopped turning on.
It matters little other than I can't write.
The greenhouse froze.
The water pipes burst.
The baby chick died.
In the frame of short winter days the chickens stopped laying.
Unrelated, my iPhone, in total frustration got chucked across my car as I struggled to call BC and surrender. The call never went through. Instead I let the phone sit where it landed. Beach scooped it up smuggled it in the house like an injured bird. I "slept" instead of running.
Then laid awake all night counting the hours of sunlight between the gym drop off and sunset. Comparing it against the time I need to up and down the Living Room in deep snow.
But when I do close my eyes I don't feel the powder biting at my boots I feel water. Ice cold, as it rushes by. I feel the slickness of the stones. I hear the waterfall cascading into the misty abyss. I know I am losing ground. From here it is just a waiting game. I sit on the Hillary-Step awake and dreaming, dreaming of snow.
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