The snowblower in Iris Jenson’s hands, which had been doing such an efficient job of clearing a path from her home’s front door to the snowcrawler shed, suddenly made a horrible ratcheting sound. It sounded like an iron monster chewing on metal screws, a racket fit to make her ears bleed. Iris immediately shut it off.
Too late. Her six-year-old son Thomas was already screaming, his hands clapped to the sides of his head.
Releasing Spring 2013