Chapter 6 (Pt I.)

The sun was bright, the air bitter to the skin as Kassidy and I walked the tiny town of Remington, a town so miniscule that it failed to register on most GPS. You would have to Know the way as the locals would say. Remington was a town hardly touched by time, it was like being thrown back in the early 1900s, just catching up to the early 2000s. They even had a payphone near Mama Ed’s the local grocery store. Kassidy told me many stories of how as a kid she would come here with her grandma to purchase the juiciest peaches you’d ever find in all of Georgia. Then they would go home and make grandmas world-famous peach cobbler and listen to the life lessons she had gained growing up in a time before Rosa Parks sat down on the bus.

A storm was approaching the south and soon the roads would become unacceptable. The winter getaway was only planned for a weekend and now that weekend would turn into about a week. It was estimated that by Christmas the roads should be travelable but until then our necessities needed to double to deal with the extended stay in the cabin.

After the visit from Sheriff Walton early this morning, we had turned on the TV as we indulged in our breakfast. There was a well-dressed woman in a red blouse and black pencil skirt standing in front of weather map of the eastern side of the United States. The words “Bomb cyclone”, flashed across the screen. An apocalyptic-sounding winter storm set to hit the East Coast with freezing precipitation to affect Florida all the way up to New England. Here in the mountain region of Ga, They may get some snow but not the amount that was expected to reach. “Record Highs” the weatherwoman stated as she spoke to her fellow newsmen.

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