Emmaus Road.

"The ice age is coming..." The Clash sang on WAPL. We hitched our coats up tighter. Promises falling like snow. Flurries of doubt becoming an avalanche.

The forecast changed that night they both climbed the stairs and gathered us three kids in my room.

“Sorry, but it’s over.”

I tried to cry hard into my pillow, like I knew I should. Funny how quiet it gets after a snow fall.

From the window in that very room I used to scan the skies. Up past that white pine to the stars. The Milky Way was a curtain concealing. "Is this all there is?"

And as that glacier began to overtake us, a memory of something my brother said. "He explained...what was said in all the Scriptures concerning [the Christ]." As much as I pretended to be sleeping, and never wanted to believe that my brother was right about anything, the story struck like flint.

Outside, icicles on the eaves began to drip away. The chattering of teeth giving way to the snap and whistle of kindling. Amen.