Dearest Mother,

I am writing to you again in times of great despair. The Winter Solstice has once more proven to be harsher than anyone had ever imagined and a tempest of untold magnitude has brought this great and powerful city to its knees. I’ve seen things no man should have to bear witness to, Mother. Children nestled by the fireside, clinging to life as they are unable to get their education. Animals frozen in the very same position they lay down to sleep. Mother Nature in her cruelest manifestation. I cannot help but reminisce upon last winter’s crippling blizzard and the untold devastation it brought upon our land. But fear not, Mother. Transportation has come to a halt, but I have many rations and an ample supply of firewood, and I’ll be damned if Mother Nature takes breath from my lungs just days before my 26th birthday. I hope this letter reaches you well in Indian Country. I have garnered a great respect for the native people and their home state of Florida.

My warmest regards,

Your Son, Q

About Q-Ball

Owner, operator Queencitybeerleague.com. AKA The Commish. Q-Ball is that asshole at the office who refuses to brew a fresh pot of coffee. Not because he doesn't want to, he's just too embarrassed to admit that he doesn't know how.
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