The weather reports trumpeted snow, “12 to 14 inches”, and the need for boots, topcoats, hats and gloves. My interest piqued. I awaited white. I prayed for cold. I am an adult, a working man, and long for neither toboggan nor saucer, though I do dream of reading long stretches of a good book in front of the fire and waiting out storms with a warm mug of…something.

The snow never came. In its place a mix of freezing rain and slush covers the streets; a fresh blanket of mockery. As I start my car a single flake settles upon my windshield. Loathing. I hate snow.