I was reliably informed this morning that our municipality has officially run out of money in its budget for snow clearing. The most recent storm was the last one they had allotted money for. What the plan is if winter continues, I’m not sure. One more storm, though, and I’m going to be out clearing the drive with a flamethrower.
Winter has overstayed its welcome in these parts. If you’re one of the
unbelievable bastards lucky folk who are not dealing with this, rest assured that I’m wishing you a thousand bee stings enjoy your lovely weather. Don’t worry about us. Really.
At this point, winter is like that friend of yours from college that came to stay for a few days when their apartment flooded. But six weeks later they were still lounging around in their underpants on your couch, eating your food and swearing they’re going to be gone real soon. Any day now. But not today, today’s not good. By the way, do you mind going to the store? You’re out of beer.
But unlike that ‘friend’, you cannot club winter with a shovel and bury its cold dead body in the backyard in the hopes that the flowers will grow again.* Instead, we just have to keep putting up with its shit. I keep trying to evict it like that bar patron that just doesn’t want to leave, but ringing the last call bell doesn’t seem to be working. I may have to resort to throwing it out by force.
So, Monday Challenge for this week? Write me someone who has overstayed their welcome, and what you need to do to get rid of them. “Get rid of them’ can run from dropping them off at the bus station to dissolving their body in acid. Player’s choice.
All right, winter. Closing time. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.
*Except I did this in a short story I wrote once called “The Cruelest Month”. Bad winter that year, too.