You can, if you listen carefully,hear it tiptoeing toward us,life shuffling out of its path.There is no alternative,if survival is the aim. The sun dims, ever so slightly,as it draws near.Birdsong slips out of key;the soil it passes overturns rancid...

The bathroom filled quickly with steam, curling around the mirror and making the air thick and warm. She hugged herself, sweater still clinging to her arms, and looked at him uncertainly.“I’m cold,” she whispered.He hesitated, then reached for her...