Twenty Degrees

If you want to shoot a post-apocalyptic movie in North Carolina, you don’t need to block off Times Square or digitally remove people. You just wait until January. When it snows/ices in that special NC way, for which I will now try to coin the term “snices,” and does that thing where it melts to slush during the day and freezes over at night, turning asphalt into a lovely sort of black glass, things slow down, sure.

But when it gets below twenty-five degrees, PEOPLE DISAPPEAR.

Twenty degrees

I just got back from a six mile run, starting and ending *on campus*, traveling up and down a street they like to call “Main Street,” and I only saw one other pedestrian the whole time — and that was a fellow jogger at Salem Lake.

Does this mean everyone else is crazy? Or that I am? Discuss.

And, yeah, it’s Sunday morning, not a lot of activity in general. And Lord knows some productions are out there braving it.

Tory

Draws. Sweats. Eats too much sugar-free candy.

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