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by TJ O’Shea The dead of winter is a misnomer. Winter’s solstice is very much alive—its lungs expel frosty breaths, snowy fractals nourish dormant soil, and the blinding sun shimmers along frozen rivers. Winter insulates the holiday season like a womb. All the roasts, presents, midnight kisses, giving thanks and saying prayers, lighting candles and singing songs, we cram into the season until it bursts with cheer. Warmth is a place, and it’s New York Read more…

by Abby Crofton The clearing came into view and she started running. Feet slid along the frosted ground but she hardly noticed, feeling light enough to fly. The rope tethering her to the donkey fell out of her outstretched hand, reaching toward the figure standing in the middle of the circle of trees.  After a year, she finally embraced her love again. They rocked in each other’s arms, cheeks made warm as they pressed together. Read more…