SALAD DAYS OF WINTER
By Leif Bodnarchuk
Find Leif online: leifb73.com
Copyright
© 2014 Leif Bodnarchuk
ISBN 978-1-291-91275-3
Salad Days of Winter
DAY 1
Turley stared out his bedroom window. After three solid days the heavy snow had stopped. It was the coldest day on record. He was out of milk.
When he opened the front door he was confronted with a wall of snow. It was nearly head-height. Some flakes blew in and swirled in the draft before settling on the rug.
Great, he thought.
He opened his mouth to complain but stopped himself. The last thing Emily needed was to hear him whinge.
Snowshoes.
For Christmas one year Turley's cousin Seamus sent him a pair of bear-paw snowshoes from Vancouver. He figured he'd never use them. Northern Ireland was hardly a tundra — until now. Turley found them in the garage, in a rotting box.
After fastening the strange attachments to his boots, Turley walked clumsily through the kitchen armed with a set of plastic steps. Down the hall he trudged, cocooned in a parka like an Eskimo.
He opened the door and the freezing air scratched at his face.
Setting the steps at the foot of the vertical bank, he hauled himself up. The snow was dense, driven for
