“It’s not fatal,” Peter reasoned with her. “It’s just cold.”
“White, fluffy abomination,” June muttered, and pulled her too-thin leather jacket tighter. “I’ve seen snow before, obviously. Light snow. And dry. Not this…wet monstrosity dumped all at once.”
“I’m told it’s heavier than expected this early in the year,” Peter admitted. “Even for here.”
“Even snow monsters who wanted more snow would avoid New Hampshire,” she grumbled, and poked a gloveless finger at the car’s red button, jabbing it repeatedly as she tried to increase the seat warmer. “It’s not working. Ow!”
Peter had brought the car to an abrupt halt. Visibility was down to thirty feet, although nearly everyone had bunkered down sensibly before they’d left the restaurant.
She rubbed her shoulder and eased the seat belt away. “Why’d you stop?”
He swallowed, pale even in the dim streetlight and surrounded by whirling, hissing flurries. “About that snow monster.”
***
A quick one this week, inspired by Padre, while my prompt went to AC Young. Check out theirs and more, over at MOTE!
