I pace anxiously across my room, waiting for the phone call. My burning eyes are dried from all the tears. Each tick of the second hand feels like an eternity. What if she died? What if I never see her again? My clammy hands gripped the phone tightly. One tick; I slam the door not suspecting what the fate of the future will bring. Two ticks; the sound of the sirens piercing the cold, thin air.Three ticks; her lifeless body, her pale face, her cold hands. Four ticks; hot burning tears streaming down my face. Five ti— the phone rings.
In some areas of the US, the kids wear their pajamas backward and flush ice cubes down the toilet to guarantee a snow day. Here in Texas, it rarely happens. I’ve only seen a “snow day” twice in my lifetime. I remember the last one as a white coating on the grass and we ran out to play in it before it melted away by lunch time. I’ve played in the mud way more than the snow.
On Thursday night the January 23rd, we had the perfect storm. It blew in as an “arctic vortex” and we went to bed knowing that school would be delayed at least two hours on Friday. Ice developed on the roads by morning, most school districts canceled classes for the day. It was glorious!
A snow day in Texas?