rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Icy Night

There was a descent of damp- not a rain, nor even a mist, but simple damp which gathered on every surface, turning the pavement dark and beading the grass. The cloudy veils drew off and then returned, again and again, and each time the waning moon was revealed the rimed rooftops glowed pale white and the black street reflected the light. The woods were sounding with soft wind, but here the cold air remained still. Hours passed, and nothing stirred, and I thought that winter had been reduced to this, a miniature, as something that might be preserved in a ball of glass, a globe of cold clarity.
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