5.13.11 The Irony of Global Warming

Frozen tendrils of ice blew between the hills buried three feet in snow. Sleet came in torrents, forming ice on every surface. The wind chimes had stopped their chiming, too cold even to move.

Two heavily bundled figures moved slowly down the street.

“I don’t know why I got on that plane,” one shouted above the wind. “I was just thinking I need to get out of Florida, anywhere will do. So I hoped on a random plane. And… well, that was stupid, because now I am stuck here in frozen Siberia!”

“This ain’t Siberia, idiot. This is New England.”