“Plowed” by Stephen D. Rogers
The wipers groaned as the snow fell wet and heavy, slushballs exploding on the windshield like multiple exit wounds.
The day couldn’t be more perfect.
Hunched over the wheel, Michael squinted through the chaos to the road ahead, adjusting his course to follow the trenches dug by larger vehicles.
He would finally see his father. His father would finally see him . . .