The Dark

The wind is howling outside. In the days of keyholes it would be time to put tape over them, along with stuffing towels at the inside foot of the each door. Wind is a relentless little bugger. The wind chimes on our back porch sound like an orchestra tuning up. Two of our 3 trees are gone from the last storm, so it looks more barren than usual from the kitchen window. A frozen suburban tundra. Lambeau field without the seating and goalposts. The snow blowing off the roof is threatening to bury the dogs as they are forced into the yard to pee. The house shakes periodically. The roads are filled with empty garbage cans. There are people out there who enjoy this type of thing. You should avoid these people.