The contours are absorbed in different intensities of light and in the indistinct regions between light and darkness everything is clear: wax candles flicker in a changing wind. The women store their dresses away. Somebody is sneaking down the stairs in stockinged feet. In the foreground you see a boy who stares at a sun draped with heavy velvet hangings in the thousand known nuances of gray. The clouds hang far away as frail bells.
Translated from the Danish by David Keplinger
Published by the Center for Writers at The University of Southern Mississippi
