Abernethie hated the lanterns. They weren’t Christmassy at all. Lola had picked them out in a market on Pender Street, and their mother Janet had bought them, just like that. It didn’t matter when Abernethie explained that they didn’t match … Continued
Golden streetlights and twinkling Christmas lights glitter everywhere, reflected in a hundred shining surfaces. Lattes in hand, shoppers clatter and splash down the cobblestone sidewalks, peering in at displays of expensive soaps and functional cashmere.
But spring was gaining a delicate hold. The sun was returning — a weak, tentative sun that peered through dirty windows into her apartment. She turned her face to it. Outside, small birds fluttered and ruffled in damp leaves, and light sparkled off pools of water.