The January Ice Storm

Annie, Saint-Bruno-de-Montarville, January 5, 1998, 8:00 p.m.

It was dark and I was on my way home from my friend Mélanie’s house. We’d spent the evening surfing the fabulous new World Wide Web. It was mild out, but an icy rain had been falling since the afternoon. It was freezing rain, like we often get in winter. I kept slipping and I giggled a bit to myself. I heard cracking overhead. Tree branches were bending under the weight of the ice until they almost touched the ground. It was beautiful, poetic. Branches were falling near me. But I wasn’t afraid. I’d soon be safe and warm at home. And I’d see my friends back at school the next day.