The light in Cori’s bedroom is snow-day light, clean-yellow and buoyant, the kind of light that matches exactly with the taste of chicken noodle soup and the rumble of a plow.
It’s a girl, driving the tractor with the blade. Actually it’s the girl, the broad-shouldered stunner Cori’s only seen at assemblies, since they occupy opposite wings at school (Sam in Arts, Tractor Girl in STEM/Ag). Wool hat, red curls, soft brown leather gloves, breath puffing into clouds that rise and disappear.
Cori leaves the window to reach for her sketchbook, the one her art teacher will never see.