snow

He paced from window to window muttering as the snow continued to drift.
"Killer storm... polar vortex... warming my ass..." He plunged into the closet
and forged out the front door like a warrior, his face masked,
his torso padded, his feet in steel-toed boots with treads for deep traction.
When the snow blower wouldn't start, he grabbed the shovel
and attacked the sidewalk. None of his neighbors were out. It was like the end of the world, a snow apocalypse. His fingers went numb and his eyes
began to water, his chest tightened. The snow drifted around him.