QUOTE : Isaac stood alone in snow level with his boots, his hands shoved into his pockets and his chin tucked close to his chest. He ignored the frigid air and stared into the distance, at the point where icing-sugar inclines became jagged mountaintops. He could see the ski-paths tracing up and down each slope, and the ski-lifts above them like the ghosts of ley lines over cracked earth. Only, he couldn’t see earth; not for miles. Usually, that would bother him. Would make him itch. But the pine on the wind and the savage cold was close enough, it seemed. His breathing was even; his soul was soothed; his mind was as quiet as it ever fucking got. Quiet enough for the fragments of poetry that chased him to capture the whole of his attention.