Tales Of Corwin

Mark stepped out of his front door the next morning and was immediately aware of the threat. There was some kind of odd reversal going on: it was harder to breathe outdoors than in, more claustrophobic under the sky than inside the house. He found that it took an effort even to lift his eyes to the heavens, where heavy-looking masses of grey cloud, pressing down low in the sky, seemed to weigh on his gaze. It was the sort of day that makes any sensible animal decide to remain in its den. But although the official forecast was dire, and the supermarket forecasts even more so, and although the news from neighboring states showed the power of the winter storm now bearing down on them, still everyone agreed that it wouldn’t hit until tomorrow, probably tomorrow night. Mark hunkered down in his jacket and headed over to the church, thinking with a pang of his warm bed, and the warm woman he had left sleeping there. Inside the church, Mark could ignore the skies and breathe normally again. It was a good day for w