Above the frosted, sun-dazzled bottom of the glass I saw a brilliant blue
sky, divided into luminous rectangles by the orderly white strips of
wood in my window. Down below, the backyard had vanished. In its
place was a dazzling white sea, whose lifted and immobile waves would
surely have toppled if I had not looked just then. It had happened
secretly, in the night. It had snowed with such abandon, such fervor,
such furious delight, that I could not understand how that wildness of
snowing had failed to wake me with its white roar.
- Steven Millhauser, "Snowmen"
|By Rikke Skovgaard|