Rapture Stories

The world revolves my angel, and once more The time is coming when the days grow short,When happy thoughts of summer flee away, And all around is desolate and bare. Come fly with me to some exotic shore, Where bathed in golden light, we two can sport,Dancing gaily on the strand all the day, And through the night mount high into the air. O cruel lady, tell me what I've done, What crime that you should treat me so unkind,Wh...

If you were quiet enough, you might hear the heartbeat of each flake as it hits its sea of brethren. You could be so light of foot that you might sense the shiver of the snow itself, nestling into the crevasses and nooks of every tree and root. So cold you would be that the breath in front of your face would no longer obscure your vision, its warmth a clash of two dichotomies, the complex construction of frozen atoms, and...