Weathermen

“I hate rain,” Jeb announced over his plate of bacon and eggs. Cheryl just refilled his cup.

“It’s pretty bad,” agreed Clem. “But not as bad as fog.”

“What’s bad about fog? It don’t weigh hardly nothing. Not like rain, all sloshing around on them sharp curves.”

“When it gets out and into the cab, it’s bad. I had to keep the windows down and run the AC full blast, and you know that’s a fuel hog.”

The cheerful argument continued. Gregor hunched over his eggs and tried to be inconspicuous. Nobody liked the guy who hauled the black ice.