The ice storm to end all ice storms... we packed our papers up that cold, icy, and wet February day. The roads were glazed with mirror ice and the paper delivery was in peril. Our usually happy and wealthy customers, in this small section of Pawtucket, we're somewhat miffed... to say the least. It's the willful abandonment of publications by the banks of the Ten Mile River. It's a poem of wickedly-cold conditions... redemption on epic scale. Be it cold, rain or snow, the papers must go through or as the saying goes.