There Used To Be Color Here

The fog rises silently from the platforms of ice suspended on the surface of the St. Lawrence river. Cars stream across the Bonaventure Expressway. You can tell who is late by how much snow they removed from their car from last night’s snowstorm. The sidewalks crunch beneath your feet. There is no pavement here, only slush. If you’re lucky, there is some salt to eat away at the layer of ice beneath the freshly fallen snow. The best advice for any pedestrian walking across the ice today is: don’t keep your hands in your pockets.

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