*i. The leaves' backs are bowed under the weight of an orphan snow. Steadily, steadily, a forlorn blanket hides the bright greens and muted grays of an accosted April night, blustering acidly about the day's clean yellow tulips and gracing sun-kissed surfaces with abrasive white garments. Appalled at the decay of Spring's burgeoning beauty, I…Read more Shroud *i.