The snow spotted her and me—it was like a scene from an abstract painting with no story, just emotion. Me, a strange being with white feathers sprouting from scalp and hair of pure white; her, a human broken and dismembered with a gossamer white gown hugging her wilting form and draped over her dismembered limbs; the road before us, a carpet of laden snow made to bring us away from this place of pain. The blanched flakes drifted from above like mourning petals. The crowd watched with impartial gazes, a valley of souls watching me depart from their religious haven. Taking with me proof of
...more
