In the dark, the falling snow outside looked like ash. The flurries that spun around the ruddy polluted glass of the oil lamps became the warm colors of a shattered rainbow. They didn't have the inner brilliance of fireflies or the sinister playfulness of…

We climbed to the top of Memorial Hill. I didn't think too much of the flag flapping above us. My mind was totally on Nataxia. Her hand glowed inside mine, warm against the Autumn night.

Stone benches ringed the flowerbed and the block of bronze emblazon…