There is a particular kind of light in the world, the night after a snowfall. The bones of the world glow; they’ve all forgotten they need reflected light to be seen and simply emit their own.
At least, I will believe this to be true.
There is a particular kind of light in the world, the night after a snowfall. The bones of the world glow; they’ve all forgotten they need reflected light to be seen and simply emit their own.
At least, I will believe this to be true.
