The orange light of the sometimes on sometimes off
streetlamp cast a muted now and then light. When it was on, I was captivated
with the sheen of the ice sheet. I could feel a miniature continental glacier
in the gentle ebbs and flows of the ice-capped snow in my garden. I could
hardly wait for morning when I could skate-walk, slip, slide, crash, and
maybe crawl on all fours to my car for my daily métro, boulot, dodo commute.
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