After the third blizzard there were 2 dead days while the city scrambled. School was closed and public transit suspended. Unusual winter hazards began cropping up all over. Here, the roof of a warehouse collapsed. There, an old man is run over by a plow truck. Snow has short-circuited the subway tracks. A car is crushed by a falling icicle.
There was talk of melting the snow, talk of dumping trucks full of it into the ocean. My mom called and messaged daily with genuine concern in her voice. Meanwhile, in our snow cave, we sat, we drank wine, we tele-conferenced, we cooked elaborate meals and played games of DOTA.