Good morning

Lying on an unsuitable single bed. Last night's weather report on playback in my head. Brought to bare on reality by my brothers shout, "Mum's stuck. I get dressed run outside and say "fuck." The beauty of the fall fills my eyes but the stench of burnt rubber repulses me. I dig for too long, dismissing maternal help with claims of "i'm strong." Until eventually she escapes. The snow fills my hardwork, renderding it as useful as video tapes. I hope i can get home on friday because this snow may outlast the day.