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Owl Owl Tyler Keevil Photo by Tyler Keevil ( e s s a y ) My wife left work two hours ago and still isn’t home, so I’m haunting our back window, watching snow sweep through the ochre cone of a streetlamp further down our block. e s Th treetlamp next to our house isn’t lit: not because it’s faulty but because the County Council has decided to switch these lights off W i n T e r 2 0 1 7 / T H e M i S S O U r i r e V i e W 1 0 3 at random intervals to save money. And because of that, I’m studying this other streetlamp, fifty yards away, trying to gauge the heaviness of the snowfall. There are gritters (what I would call snowploughs) out roam - ing the roads, but not enough of them. e Th council is cutting back on highway maintenance, too. They’re cutting back on everything. When it snows like this in rural Wales, the roads are barely passable. “She’s fine.” I say these words aloud, even though I’m alone. I’m alone as I’ve ever felt, waiting for my wife on a
The Missouri Review – University of Missouri
Published: Dec 27, 2017
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