Friday, February 13, 2015

872. Snow drift

Snow drifted across the highway, teased by the wind like a murmuration of starlings.
Bits of it were intercepted by passing cars, ground up in the grooves of a thousand tires.
Relentless, the rest of the snow passed unchecked over a fallow winter field.
Most of it came to rest in a drift, piled up against the old farmhouse with the dead eyes.