Tag Archives: winter

Judith Gap 7

1 Mar

Mornings were a drag in the Wilder household. The mother bustled around and woke everyone up because oversleeping was against the Lord. So were Ugg boots in July and black bras under white clothes. That morning Clara showered, leafed through the local paper, munched on milk and cereal and almost ran away from home a second time, all in the span of an hour. The front door banged shut. The girl breathed in a lungful of winter and took to the road. She was turning the corner of 1st Avenue when someone caught up with her. “Walk with me, child.”


Happy 1st of March to everyone! It snowed again around here but spring can’t be that far away, can it? 😀



14 Feb

Winter reigns in old Europe and we are covered in snow. Wherever you look we’ve got either a code orange or a code red for blizzards, heavy snowfall and all-time low temperatures.

What with all the storms and blackouts we’ve decided to take a week off and dream the cold away under heavy blankets.

See you next Monday when we resume our regular activity!

The doves of snow – Prologue

2 Feb


The white world whirls its whirlwind wielding wars of winds in the whiteout, without winning, whining or even wandering what I want. A silence like whispers in a chilling tempo.

Peace. Not pleasure. Serenity. No action. Light. No darkness that can come from life. Softness. Not a single drop of destruction that can come out of the human heart. Echoes in the dove-gray sky.

The doves of snow are my only friend. Singular. Because these birds form together an entity-The Dovetail. Regenerating with neverending calmness. Hope in the blue-green-white like thunders revealing the way to soul-travelers. The tale of the Dovetail and how I met Her is what you`ll hear next.

Judith Gap 4

2 Feb

A shiver made the little patch of trees shake, though there was no wind. Edda looked up from her bloody squirrel and sniffed the air. Well, well, well. We’re all coming home for the holidays, aren’t we? Squirrel forgotten, Edda plunged a hand deep in her pocket and rummaged around until her palm closed around the sharp edges of a small, iron star, the kind you never touched with bare hands. But she looked down at it and pricked all five of her fingers on the sharp corners. Three fields away, something stirred in the ground and opened ancient eyes.

Judith Gap 3

26 Jan

They stood on either side of the closed door and shivered. Derrek looked at his mother. The cab driver looked at the girl. In that unique instant their thoughts coincided. But Mrs. Wilder was faster. She yanked the door open. “Just in time for cake,” she said and stepped aside. The hallway filled with snow. “Oh,” said the girl and walked into the supper room. Three pairs of eyes measured her up and down. An extra plate lay untouched on the table. “How did you…?” Clara asked, pointing. “Your father saw you at the bus station.” Of course. Her father.