Starry-Heaven

It snowed a lot in Eastburg. Every year, no matter what. You'd only been here a few years, but you already knew that. And you also knew no matter how obvious it was that there was going to be a snowfall, nobody in town would seem to have prepared for it. Waking up in the morning, you'd always be greeted with the same sight; pure, glistening white, as far as the eye could see. And, for about five seconds, you'd admire it. Then, you'd remember you had some form of coffee shop gig that evening, on the other side of town, and go back to wallowing in misery, trying desperately to figure out how you were going to get home. You weren't a musician b

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