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Weekly Contest #265
The snow showed no sign of letting up. It had begun as dust, like flour being lightly tapped from a sieve in the sky; then the flakes grew fat and dense, deftly blocking us in. It felt strangely crushing, like I was a soda can inexorably crumbling under steady pressure from two hands.I settled in my seat, picked a spot on the floor, and gazed at it idly. Maybe they could still take off. Somehow. Of course, that idea – that stupid idea – flew in the face of the 5 (or 6?) delays I had endured today. I hoped maybe something, somewhere would cli...
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