In Chapel Hill, an ice storm threatens. In Minneapolis, an ICE storm rages. This morning, the winter-cold air refreshed me. Now the chill I feel comes from the coldness of one human toward another: There’s been another murder.
Our flickering gas fire reflects in the window glass that separates us from the world outside. The cat slumbers on the arm chair; the dog snores on the rug. Horrified, we sit on the couch, eyes raised to scenes unfolding on the TV while our hearts sink. Scenes show the anger burning in Minnesota, flames fanned repeatedly by the extreme violence, an undercurrent of fire that surges across this country. We jump between news channels that reflect the division in this country.
Dan and Camden bundle up to take Malarkey for a walk in the woods. Tomorrow, freezing rain is projected to keep North Carolinians safely tucked inside their homes. Today, the violence raining down 1200 miles northwest of here propels Minnesotans outside, exposed to far more than elements.
The front door opens with a burst of enthusiasm. “Mummy, Mummy, the hailstorm’s started, but you can’t see it!” Camden trills.
Dan clarifies, “You can hear it in the trees. You can hear the shhhhhhhhh.”
The sibilance of the weather is a hush that won’t be echoed in the protests of the people.
Renée Good
Alex Pretti
Renée Good
Alex Pretti
To Palimpsest 
❤
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