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Frost Richard Luftig It’s so cold here I can see my breath on the inside windows of my house and it makes no difference which of the two roads I take to town; the drifts have blocked them and the sand trucks won’t pass this far out in the county for at least another two days. But I can’t take another hour of only having stubbles of corn in the fields for company. They may be all ears but they sure don’t say much. So, I’m going to take the chance of ending in a ditch, and drive into town to Sandy’s Bar & Grill. Who knows; the country band may still show up. Or the karaoke machine will be working for a change. Maybe they’ll have a Shot-and-a Beer Blizzard Special. You never know. Maybe I’ll sing on key for a change. Maybe I’ll get lucky and Darlene will dance with me so close I can smell the perfume and shampoo on her neck. Maybe she will risk the weather and finally come home with me. Maybe I’ll even have


2017 Freshwater Literary Journal  
2017 Freshwater Literary Journal  

Professional literary journal produced at Asnuntuck Community College