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Morning Light

Sometime in the early morning, the snow stopped and the sky began to clear. When the sun finally rose, light filtered through the window in fractured bits, and the bright shards festooned the normally drab room with a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. Every now and then an icy gust of wind would rattle the brittle glass, sending the fragments of light into a flurry of activity. There was no heat on in the apartment and the temperature in the room had dropped to well below freezing, preserving the contents just as if they had frozen in time. In the middle of the carpet lay what appeared to be a sleeping figure, a small older woman dressed in a cotton housecoat, one foot still adorned with a scuffed slipper. An ancient angel caught in a mid-winter dream.

Story by:

Jennifer Burgraff

21 December 2013