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    melodies #2

Looking from the back seat, word beaten, road signs with a warning pattern appear...giant snow flakes in a red triangle.
Heading out of the city snow covers the ground. Headlights seeme brighter in this sharp light.
By now the city is swallowed whole in a halo of white, all traffic stopped. The tired ache of branches, breaking from crippled trees, and an echo of a siren breaks the stillness. We wait, watch as the trees topple, turning to splinters, then point first in the ground...