Snow Removal

Snow Removal 

Martin doesn't drop the snow heaped in the bucket of his front loader. Five minutes 

now, hovering, while the diesel rumbles. “What the hell, Martin!” That's Dwayne, 

his breath a cloud puff in front of his face. The crew has been hauling snow from 

streets for days. Dumping it all on a stretch of Bay St. -- a whole block, avalanched 

with dirty snow. “Drop it, man!” Dwayne, arms out, dumbfounded. Last night, 

standing in the hallway of his building, Martin's brother called. “Dude. Travis’s dead.” 

In the kitchen, Martin told his wife who'd said, “Martin, you never even liked Travis.” 

Martin backs up the front loader, spins it around, and picks up speed. The bucket 

wobbles out in front like a child holding a bowl. When he gets to the middle 

of 3rd and Court, he drops the whole grayed mass. Every car and truck creeps 

their way around it.