rik

The garland of Christmas past blows with an eerie glitter in the halflight of early winter's early morning. Wrapped around a steel lightpost, cold, forbidding the touch of uncovered fingers, it wilts under its own weight until another gust or breath of air shakes the strands to life. The steel of the lightpost foot stamps hard on the sidewalk of the city. A white mound of lumpy, shadowed snow loiters at this foot and will move from walk to street only when helios allows.....