An Elderly Woman Warned Me Not To Touch The Snow—The Next Morning, I Understood Why

From heavy, large boots. The kind of prints that sink into fresh snow with the weight of a full-grown man walking slowly, deliberately, with no concern for being quiet because he believed no one was watching.

Not Vernon’s.

I knew his shoes, his size, his walk—the slight drag of his left foot from the knee he’d injured twenty years ago loading freight.continue reading …