A Cycle of Endings Amanda Crum At 13, he was too young to reminisce; he did it anyway, at the behest of the citrine sky. It was always the same when winter came. Snow covered those summer fields and dusk took them into its cloak of shadows, a cycle of endings that somehow always came as a surprise. The barn lights called him home earlier and earlier, into deepening purple and cold toes. He slid one hand along the slushy […] Continue Reading
