​​Nina MacLaughlin’s Winter Solstice : vi

From its first breath, the narrative is a visceral movement through the hiemal season, imbricating what is familiar and comforting “to honor the dark with festivals of light,” with an ominous, collective disquiet, as boys string garlands of bulbs on the houses of neighbors for pocket money, children skate and sled across frozen landscapes full of hidden treacheries, candlelight burns in frosted windows, and a fireplace roars with erotic charge.