Montreal’s left-winger is about to take a slap shot…
No, wait.
I feel a gentle breeze on my face.
Strange.
I open my eyes. Yes, there is a breeze.
Not again! I look out the window from my bed, expecting to see trees bending in the gale.
The darkness of 4 a.m. Nothing but silence, the glow of streetlights.
Streetlights?!
Then I hear it. A gentle whir.
I look up. In the dimness, the blades of an overhead fan turning and turning.
Electricity! For the first time since Sunday.
Thanks for nothing, Irene.
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