like a horse let out of its stall, a storm brewing on the western coast began to race over the land eastward over mountains and out across the plains. as it went, it gained speed and strength, gathering the wetness of the sky and ground alike along its path. this did not escape the notice of the ice queen. down from the northern country she flew, bent on riding the horse storm to the eastern seaboard. she caught it right about midland, mounted the cloudy steed and rode like the wind, turning the waters within to ice and sleet and snow. we were spared the harshest blast when she turned more north as she passed us, only dusting us with the hems of her magnificent cloak throughout the night. those in her direct path were left in darkness as she took the power out under the feet of her now icy steed.

and onward she rides still …


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