Part 1
Part 2

By the time Rachel reached her destination, the snow and ice had stopped their onslaught. Perhaps the Earth had given up; perhaps Rachel had outlasted her, difficult as it is to grasp such a thing – that the swell of angst in the soul of an ordinary, insignificant suburban housewife could rise to outlast such a powerful, natural force. Yet, here she was, snaking her mommy car through a tiny subdivision of Pueblo, hair wet and disheveled, stuck to her wind-chapped cheeks and forehead, grey cardigan moist and itchy and clinging to her body.

Her car found its way to a coul-de-sac and the driveway of a quaint two-story, color of canary and shutters in white. The house had seen a fresh coat of paint since she’d seen it last, but its shade hadn’t changed; someone was wise enough to know that yellow was its best…