A horror lurks in the heart of the storm, watching for an opportunity. Learn more in E.M. Otero's latest Eye Tale, "Eyes of the Blizzard."
A storm was looming, and everyone panicked, buying food, water, beer, and any other necessities they would need. The weathermen said it was going to be a “Storm of the Century.” Carlos could remember at least five of those storms in the last fifteen years. It was still going to be a wild storm, three days of heavy snow amounting to somewhere between two and five feet. He was a grounds worker for a nursing home, and he knew he was going to be putting in overtime.
“I don’t understand how they could speculate between two to five feet. That is a tremendous difference!” Mabel said, pushing the grocery cart. Carlos chuckled and grabbed a couple of grape energy drinks. “That’s like if I were a dentist and said I would pull somewhere between one to five teeth. I would be out of business if I was that kind of dentist.” Mabel, his wife, said in faux outrage.
“They just don’t like to be wrong. If they paint with a broad stroke, they are more likely to be right.” Carlos said, grabbing a bag of chili roasted pistachios.
“You know, When I vent, I am not looking for a rational response. You need to match my drama.” Mabel said with mock disgust.
“Oh, of course… how dare they?” Carlos said, shaking his fist.
“This place is wild.” Mabel said after someone nearly slammed into her with his cart. “Everyone and their brother is here.”
“It’s primal, a storm is coming, everyone wants to stock up.” Carlos said as they got into line to check out.
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