Turning out lights to see the stars through the window, she said to herself, “I love winter’s darkness.” “Me too,” he said from the shadows.
Mom says it’s the longest night. Amy goes to bed at 8 as always, & wonders how much extra dream time will magically be tacked onto the night.
Christmas comes again, with a melancholy sweetness of pumpkin, bright lights, and the one extra present we always wrap to remind us of her.
He was photosensitive and only went out in the dark. He marked the days to the winter solstice, his favorite night, with anticipation.
She looked up into the night and whispered quietly, “With all the stars in the sky, why do we only wish on the ones that fall down and die?”
For five short days, our contributors will explore the meaning and mystery of the winter’s deep dark and a critical turning point in time.