By midday the snow had turned to rain, and by the evening the streets were a mess. I wasn't planning on going anywhere. Life has a tendency not to do what I ask, even if I ask nicely.

Canvas sneakers and a leather jacket don't do justice to the wet or the cold of a New England winter but it's all I have--and you were four hours away by train and of course, I'd do anything for you. I'll be there as soon as I can, I said, and maybe it even helped.

The first half of the journey was wet. The snow was blocking the drains so the streets were flooded and I was stepping in pools of icy water well past the ankle. Then it was icy, with water on top so it was slick and nobody bothered salting the walks because hey, it was just rain. The rain kept falling meanwhile. Eventually I made it to the subway station, rain-soaked and cold, and still with four hours to go. As I step onto the car, my shoes slosh, and I realize just how ill-equipped I am for the weather.

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