By Sully Sullivan, from A Christmas Peril by J.A. Hennrikus
"This is just wrong," I said aloud to no one in particular.
"What's that Sully?" Gene asked me. Gene was outside the Beef and Ale, sweeping the sidewalk. Trevorton had taken to sand over salt on sidewalks when possible, and the flash freeze in January made some of the sidewalks look like they were on the beach rather than a couple of miles away.
"Gene, it's February. I should be bundled up and dreaming of a trip to somewhere warm."
"You should," Gene said. "And you're right. This isn't right. I saw a picture of me three years ago--"
"During Snowmagedon," I said, using the term New Englanders used to describe the record breaking winter of 2015.
"Yup. Snow drifts were so high you could barely see the door to the bar."
"I remember." I shuddered. I don't do any snow sports, so winter is to be endured. The winter of 2015 tested my patience.
"So, you're right. This warm snap--"
"It's going to be 70 tomorrow," I said.
"Nuts. It's not good for us. You know we'll pay, and it will snow in April."
"I do," I said. New Englanders were famous for a doom and gloom, we know we have to pay our winter penance.
"But, I'll take it," Gene said. "These warmer days, they've been a tonic. I'll take 'em, and keep the snow blower out through April." Gene went back to sweeping.
I looked over at Gene, and smiled. Maybe I would do a run this afternoon. May as well enjoy the gift of a warm snap in February.
But still, it was just wrong.
J.A. Hennrikus writes the Theater Cop series, and Julianne Holmes writes the Clock Shop series. They both tweet under @JAAuthors, are on Instagram as @JAHenn, and are on Facebook.