Hour by hour, the roads pile higher with blankets of fluffy, crystalline cotton, drawn fresh from unseen seedpods upward in the night sky. Each flake lights softly like a pillow on the backs of perfect doilies fallen hours earlier, as the wind runs its fingers atop the fibers of each blanket, brushing up the brittle bits of lace. Airborne, they dance across the textile stretching miles in every direction- and stitch breathtaking designs, illuminated by the dim glow of this February moon.
The last blanket falls, and the texture of the embroidery is visible as lines of shadow, highlighted by the contrast of shimmering crystals where the blanket has folded over upon itself. The hands of the wind grip firmly the corners of this awesome display, and lift it mightily as if to shake smooth the wrinkles caused by its own playful touch, only moments before. The blanket rises, billowing, and iridescent grains- light like sugar, shining like glass- fly upward, and outward, and on to unseen parts of the surrounding darkness... they fall, but no one knows where they their course may end.
This fantasy planet, sustained only by a few precarious degrees, waits in the silence of the night. A rustling there, a low whistle from beyond... the quiet sounds in the midst of stillness are the shallow breaths of an uneasy world. A world cradled by capriciously-tempered Fahrenheit increments, whereupon their whim and choosing, all will transform into a trickling river. Absorbing into the ground beneath, this world will dissolve before the eyes of the wind as tears, when the handiwork left upon this winter tapestry will not again be touched by its maker.
Flakes of lace! Grains that glitter! Fly! Soar! Come alive tonight and feel the freedom that is yours alone, miles high in the night! Dance along with each the other, let the wind embrace your delicate arms to carry you in a swirling waltz this night. And rest. Settle close among one another. Cozy near your neighbor, your sisters, and your friends- equal and immaculate, unique and irreplaceable. Sleep now tonight, each you one. The wind, the night, the fickle temperature, and undisturbing quiet cover you, enclose you, protect you.
Sleep. Tomorrow is no bother to you now.
