Thursday, February 12, 2015.
It’s 6:12 am.
Overcast, and 17° F. Pre-dawn.
The Groundhog forecasts 6 more weeks, he’s been wrong before.
I-95 South is dry.
The wind kicks up road salt, swirling behind the mud flaps of convoys of truckers barreling into Manhattan.
It’s a race to beat the morning Rush. Smokey & The Bandit. Snowman. Buford T. Justice.
Traffic is light and smooth. VO Manhattan. Neat.
Same Ólafur Arnalds’ playlist.
Same damn biting cold. [Read more…]