thirty-one degrees

by phillip gillis

The window looked out over the pond…
frozen.
slightly.
but alive.
fish beneath the surface,
home for the winter,
reluctantly ventured out.

A call at 5 am on a cold December morning meant one thing
and an unscraped road was perfection.
the hood of a car was not just a hood-
however a trash can lid worked in a pinch-
because sleds sold out across town
the instant the first snowflake hit
the day before.

Down the hill.
around the corner.
narrowly missed the first tree.
bump.
sharp corner ahead!
leaned to the left.
picked up speed.
too fast!
bump.
slowed down.
last curve.
an icy bridge.
ditch!
bump.
crash!
repeat.

The grind and rumble of a snowplow
was heard down the road.
“We need milk, bread, and eggs.”

Phillip Gillis is a teacher, writer, wanderer, semi-retired professional wrestler, and father of two beautiful children. He is also a proud native of Allensville, NC and grew up in a hardware store, C&G Supply Center.