Straight-line winds shriek, shake, and snap entire limbs from iced tree trunks. A thickening layer of frost scrims windows and doors shut.
Local roads are impassable, and even MnDOT’s snowplows,following each other in diagonal cadres of three, crawl cautiously.
Another howling blast, and the freeway disappears once again.
I stretch a sandaled foot in the Santorini sun and sip the sparkling, resinous wine. I laugh softly as he places another glistening olive on my waiting tongue.
Perhaps I will stay.
Liz Husebye Hartmann (81 words)
Gather Shorties Week 7: In 100 words or less, tell me about your wonderful or horrible imaginary vacation.