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Snow was written about a time when I was with someone 10 years older than me.
We never fought coz there was nothing to fight about. It felt so safe enjoying the perks of white America and emotional tranquility- the fancy dinners, concerts, and shallowness. He was freshly divorced and in my naive mind I didn't register myself as the younger, shinier, rebound.
We went to a bed and breakfast spot in upstate New York that was covered in virgin snow. There was a light indigo hue all around, as far as the eyes could see. The snow and the sky blended in, and all you could see is a small ...