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Ice breaker

March 8, 2008

It took an hour, but the ice at the end of the driveway finally splintered until there was nothing left but pieces. He stood, sweating, afraid to look at the sky. Behind him, the snow receded from the sidewalk’s edge, exposing forgotten ground. When he walked back toward the house, his boots crunched chunks of the ice, scattered as it fled from beneath the impact of his sledgehammer.

It was so satisfying, he thought, to take action against winter, to slam that metal hammerhead into the fossilized ice again and again. He could almost taste the cold metal on impact.

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