Christmas Evie
Steering my truck with my knees, I played with the radio with one hand while flicking the ash from my cigarette out the window with the other. All the DJ's wanted to talk about was the impending storm, which was looking to be at least a Manitoba Mauler and could possibly end up as a Saskatchewan Screamer. The boiling black clouds on the northern horizon seemed to smugly say that the forecasters were being ridiculously optimistic. In anticipation of the foul weather, the vast emptiness of the...