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I have only been out of the house once since January 27th, the date of winter storm Juno, aka. The Boston Blizzard. I made three trips to various stores and groceries the day before in order to stock up on supplies so that I could tuck-in and wait things out. Things went well, my supplies lasted quite a long time. My first journey out was to the grocery again, fresh produce was my target, and in that goal I was successful. The journey allowed me to marvel at the mountains of snow at intersections, easily ten to twelve feet tall, and the fact that the main street (Massachusetts Avenue) that runs through my neighborhood, the South End, was so full of snow that parking spaces will not be found until sometime in late spring. Sidewalks were navigable by the space of the barest width of a shovel and the only way to let oncoming pedestrians pass by was to either climb onto a car height (or higher) mound of snow, hop onto someone's half-assed shoveled steps or get real cozy. No passing. Fun stuff. Keep in mind that before the date of the big winter storm Boston had previously had only dustings, and then one storm that left about an inch on the ground when the storm began. I watched the snow fall through my oriel window in my living room and from the warm safety of my condo. It fell into and onto my below street level backyard garden and slowly covered everything. About twenty-seven inches of cover, or there about. A few days later, another eighteen or twenty inches (one is never really sure), and then some more, and some more again. We now have, in inches of snow, the high level of seventy-three point six. A record. More is on the way. Part of my condo exists as part of an 'ell', and by way of description these are extended additions (one to four stories tall) added on to the backs of townhouses all over the city and at some point in history (vague, I know). If one were to look at a townhouse from the side, you can imagine the 'L' shape at the back, hence the name. My building dates to 1857 but I have no idea when the two-story addition was added. But what this all means is that the roof over my living room is in the ell, and the roof is flat. As opposed to the roof of the main townhouse portion, which is peaked. A few years ago, neighbors put a deck on part of it, as was their right. But when snow gets to the levels that we have reached, the snow needs to be shoveled off of the flat part—roof and/or deck. That happened two days ago. My newish, upstairs neighbor (now newish deck owner) hired someone (who I know) to shovel the snow into the back garden. Fine so far. I saw said shoveler head up the fire-escape as it was getting dark. I usually pull my curtains (big, heavy, velvet curtains) closed around that time, and I did. What I didn't see until the next morning was that all of that snow had been shoveled to the sides. Whatever can be the problem you might ask? There were two mountains of snow set against the brick wall sides of my home and garden, with peaks in the range of nine or ten feet tall. So? Well, mountains have bases, and the base of mountains left and right, blocked each of my fire exits. One being my bedroom window and the other a steel door egress into the garden level from a second bedroom—with pretentions of being an office. What am I to do? Funny you should ask. Since my garden is completely snowed in and I didn't see this as a problem originally, why shovel? It means I could not get into it from its street level gate (reached by a set of stairs, also snowed in) and so I asked my next-door neighbors if they would pretty please open their back gate and let me in. I can access my garden by way of their ell addition and my buildings fire-escape (simplified version). Which I did by walking around the block and entering from the rear. So far, so good. Now, a funny thing happened on the way to the Emporium. Accessing the fire-escape was just a few pushes of snow and a completely unnecessary, though fun, break to smash a gigantic icicle hanging from the back of my neighbor's townhouse ell. If you've stuck with me, here is the really fun part. I make a treacherous step across open air onto the ice-laced wrought iron steps of the fire-escape, and again so far, so good. I tossed my two shovels (kept the straw broom) over the handrail and into the snow—they didn't sink very deep. Hmm. The next step was into the garden and was questionable. What to do, what to do? I went for it, and rather than walk to the bottom and wade through the snow, I straddled the handrail near the bottom and stepped. I sunk mid-thigh into the snow; my left leg did not follow. So there I am straddling the handrail, one leg stuck in the snow, the other trapped under a step on the fire-escape and holding a straw broom over my head for balance. Get the picture? Don't panic, Ron! It's below freezing (a high of 22°F today), I am below street level, and there is no one who can see me. Will I freeze to death? Will they find my desiccated, freeze-dried body come spring? It's amazing how fast thoughts of not-so-real possibility and craziness can flash through the mind. I had a broom, right? If you don't panic you can find a way. I was able to unseat my foot from under the step and let my left leg join its partner mid-thigh into the snow. Is this what it's going to be like? From there it was a definite slog, each leg sinking into the depths, until I was able to reach my back door entry. A journey of about twenty-four feet through perilous territory—all under foot and under snow—of planters, patio pavers upturned by cherry tree roots and a pile of pruned tree branches which didn't make it to the curb for recycling last fall. SUCCESS! Well, partial success, anyway. I did free my back door from the clutches of the mountain of ice and snow—it took an hour. But I saved my bedroom window for tomorrow's adventure.

Had an idea floating around my head for a while now and finally decided to put pen to paper to see if I liked the results. Leo pushed the laundry cart through the darkened corridor. His eyes scanned ahead, mindful of running into any unexpected complication but the hallway was still, the only source of light came from the office at the far end. The sound of his soft footfalls and the occasional squeak from a loose wheel on the cart amplified the deserted nature of the rest of the building. It was late Friday evening and the majority of the staff on the base had gone home to enjoy the holiday weekend. He paused at the door to the office with its lights still burning to read the name on the door before going inside. "Oh, shit!" Leo exclaimed in mock surprise as the man seated at the desk looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Colonel! I thought everyone had gone home for the night."John Haverson flashed a smile as he waved away Leo's apology. "I should probably be the one apologising," he said, indicating the paperwork in front of him. "Finishing off a few reports. I was in meetings for most of the day and I've fallen behind." Leo considered himself a professional but in spite of himself, he took a moment to admire the man in front of him. According to his file, Haverson was forty six but even with fifteen years on Leo, he was effortlessly handsome. His flint jaw and wide smile of perfect white teeth were a recruiting officer's wet dream. His short sleeved olive shirt clung tightly to a muscular frame at the chest and biceps and Leo had no doubt the matching pants were worn equally snug. Haverson's thick, dark hair had greyed at the temples and laughter lines furrowed his brow and tugged at the corner of each eye but Leo considered neither feature a blemish, rather they added to the Colonel's distinguished good looks. It wasn't hard to see why that damned do gooder, Liberty was so enamoured with the older man."Want me to come back?" Leo asked, catching himself and quickly reverting back to his role. "If you could give me...thirty minutes?" Haverson asked, checking the time on a heavy and obviously expensive gold watch, clasped tightly onto his left wrist."Sure Colonel, just let me empty your shredding bin." Leo said, stepping forward."That's not necessary," Haverson said quickly as Leo reached his desk. "It contains some confidential information," he explained kindly, obviously assuming he was talking to the newest member of the civilian staff who had not been fully briefed on the do's and don'ts of his job. "Policy says I have to dispose of all such paperwork myself." "Oh, I'm sorry Colonel." Leo was full aware what the regulations stated for the disposal of confidential documents but the act of ignorance had gotten him closer to the the older man. "It's fine," Haverson replied, "And it's John by the way.""No problem Colonel-I mean, John." Leo gave a nervous laugh and watched Haverson's eyes crinkle with amusement at the nervous man in front of him. Leo guessed the Colonel was the chivalrous type, all too willing to show a kindness to a timid young man, apparently wowed by the rank and uniform."Good, good," Haverson nodded, still smiling. "Thirty minutes then?" He asked, tapping the face of his watch."Sure thing, John," Leo said as he turned to go. "Oh! I almost forgot..." He pivoted on his heel, pulling the small canister from his pocket as he turned and slammed it on Haverson's desk. Thick white smoke began to spew from the device instantly, catching the Colonel where he sat. Leo quickly stepped back and raised the previously hidden breather to his nose and mouth as the gas quickly enveloped Haverson."What...." The Colonel managed to cough, ".... "What is this?" Haverson waved the smoke away as he rose to his feet but it was a fruitless task. He coughed again as he sank back into his chair. With a soft moan he slumped over his desk and remained motionless.Leo waited until the gas began to dissipate and never took his eyes from Haverson who had not moved since he collapsed across his desk. He grabbed a hold of his left wrist and lifted it into the air. There was no resistance to the action and he let the limp limb drop onto the desk. Haverson's heavy gold watch racketing noisily against the polished wood was music to his ears.Leo allowed herself his first real smile of the evening as he pulled the unconscious Haverson up before letting him fall back into his leather chair. He could feel his heart begin to beat faster and knew it was more than the adrenaline from the job causing it. He ran a hand up Haverson's leg, stopping just shy of the bulge in the tight olive pants. "What do you see in him?" he asked, whispering the question as he gently ran a hand through Haverson's hair. He moved close enough to feel the gentle touch of the Colonel's breath against his skin. The scent of coffee and natural sweat mixed pleasantly with his smokey aftershave. Against every instinct he had as a professional, Leo allowed himself a moment to plant a soft kiss on Haverson's lips. "Sleep tight, Colonel" he purred softly. Seizing the unconscious Haverson under the arms and locking his hands across his chest, Leo pulled him from his chair. Even a man with such a large frame at a dead weight was little trouble for Leo and he easily dragged his limp form across the office and to the waiting laundry cart. As he admired his own handiwork, the sound of footsteps approached from the far end of the dark corridor. "Mister DeBries?"Leo turned with a triumphant grin, seizing Haverson's limp wrist once more, holding it up to his man; "We have him. If this doesn't bring Liberty running right to us, nothing will."