The Winter Writhe
IT’S LATE FEBRUARY and I stumble out the door to grab another beer kept cold by winter’s free refrigeration. If it was anything but the high-octane variety, it would’ve frozen from a lack of alcohol. I pop the cap, drain it, and unzip my pants, melting as much snow as possible when I piss—anything to help usher spring on its way. It’s small victories like this that keep me sane. If I had a flame-thrower, I’d set this whole frigid wasteland on fire.
We’ve had 53 inches of snow in February. That’s an entire winter’s accumulation in a single month. It hasn’t been above freezing since December, and every flake that’s
