Snow-covered bench under a lit streetlamp at night, with footprints in the snow

Story 36 of 48, about 4 minutes to read

The Bench Under the Snow

A refuge in the white that renews

The city has turned its voice off and snow falls thick beneath the streetlamps. You sit on a bench, watch the white settle on everything, and something inside you falls back into place.

A bicycle passes slowly, its wheel cutting a dark arc; at once the white stitches the wound closed.
From the story

The whole story is in the book, with its full-page illustration.

Choose your edition