Katy Gaumer

Sometimes oh, the thrill that closed her throat and ran up and down her spine and set her heart to throbbing and her eyes to dancing at sound of that closed door Sometimes it rained and she pushed her way out into the storm as a viking might have pushed his boat from the Shore into an unfriendly sea; sometimes it snowed and She lifted her hot face so that she might feel the light, cold flakes against her cheek; sometimes deep drifts lay already on the ground and she flung herself upon them or into them.