Mountain Snow

When the lights went out, I knew what was coming. A hum began in the basement and the lights turned back on but seemed dimmer. I knew this to be false, but my eyes wanted them to be different because using the generator was different from power supplied by the electric company. That was my eyes' faulty logic. Since when did my eyes, only built to see, start having thoughts of their own, I wondered for a brief moment.

Snow pushed against the windows facing west, looking down the slope into the valley. There was no shelter on that side of the house and I had wished, just for second, to be on an island beach in the Caribbean, where I would be warm.