Elizabeth Lyvers's

Posts

In a World with Spring

Imagine that the leaves have fallen. The trees are dead, stripped to spindly, ghostly tentacles. The sun rarely shines, but even the light is cold on your face. When you emerge from your house, the wind lashes you like fleas biting skin. The days are long but the nights longer. And it’s in those nights, in the darkness, the ever-pressing, all-encompassing lack of sight, that you first feel despair.  Over time, winter steals the memory of warmth. You forget the...