Ice Storm

The rain fell hard and fast, flooding the streets and making the journey home rather slippery.  With temperatures falling, it didn’t take long for the rain to turn to ice, didn’t take long for the ice to cover the streets, the trees, the houses, the glass on our windows, everything it touched.  I was relieved to reach our destination, even the old worn down hotel was better than the icy roads we traveled.

The rain and ice kept up all night, and at some point in the night we lost power.  I was grateful for the generator the hotel started up; at least we had heat against the freezing cold temperatures.  When I went outside, I was shocked at just how much the ice had covered.  The telephone poles, the electric lines, everything I could see hung heavy with ice.  I wasn’t thrilled.  I still had over 100 miles to go, and the meeting started in three hours, but there was no way we would make it.  The road was covered too, and I took a guess that even the plow trucks hadn’t made it out to salt the roads yet.

I couldn’t blame them.  We were in the middle of no where, lucky to have even found this broken down hotel.  Reeves said it was best we stop, seeing as we had no idea how far away the next hotel was, or how long it was going to take to get there and with icy roads it just wasn’t safe.

But this meeting was important and I needed to be there.  I sighed and walked towards our car.  If I was lucky, I would be able to pry the door open long enough to pop the trunk and get my briefcase out.  It had been so nasty, we barely grabbed our laptops and overnight bags, everything else was deemed unnecessary for the night.  After all, the likely hood of anyone coming out here to steal was pretty low, especially in this weather.

I was almost to the car when I found myself staring up at the sky.  Perhaps the path was even slippery than I had given it credit for.  My backside hurt, and as I picked myself up off the ground, I noticed small scrapes on my hands.  They stung, but I would live.  I reached the car, and pried on the door.  It wouldn’t budge.  I tried again; it finally opened and I popped the trunk. Nothing happened.  The trunk must be frozen too.  I skated to the back of the car, holding on to keep from slipping again and tapped on the trunk.  Nothing.  I tapped again, and again, and again.  Still nothing.  Finally, in frustration, I slammed my fist down on the trunk and it popped open.  With it came chunks of ice in my direction.  I sighed and brushed the ice off my pant legs, then reached into the trunk for my briefcase.  My cell phone was inside, and with any luck, I could call my boss and let him know what was going on.  Of course, I might have to let it warm up first, but I could manage that.

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