Icepocalypse

The trip to Dallas for the National Association of Hispanic Journalists conference had been in the making since the summer. It's a chance for journalists to network and for young journalists like myself to land jobs.

It wasn't until two days before the conference that we heard the weather was going to take a turn for the cold - the really, really cold. 

We left on a Thursday morning, but the weather wasn't supposed to be bad until Thursday night. The four of us (myself, Norma, Susan and Elva) arrived safe and sound. But the next morning we woke to the shimmering white, icy streets.

Buildings, cars, plants and all were covered in ice. The sidewalks were slippery and all but one of us was accustomed to this icy terrain, but we ventured off into winter wonderland anyways, and it was beautiful. 

Everything was stock still, not only frozen in ice but almost frozen in time. The ground crunched beneath our feet, cracking with the heels of our boots.

My clothed seemed ill equipped for the icepocalypse as the wind chill stung my body. But the city sights were enough to make me forget how cold I was.