This is Girl speaking. I detest what I am about to show you. PART 1: The Shadow Little Rabbit sits across The Shadow at the dinner table. As a newborn, before she had opened her eyes, she mistook his horns, gnarled like branches, for the antlers of a deer. She reached for them with both her hands, just pure instinct. And, just like that, her faith was written, and with it, she died before she lived. This day, the birth of afterlife, is said to have been the first morning of snow, but also the first night of spring. She does not know which to be true. Her comatose body was taken to the basement before she got the chance to feel… the sprinkles of ice… or pollen… on skin untouched. She does, however, remember the sunlight, stroking her ever so slightly, and then letting go. His slender, tall figure rises above her, as he reaches for the finest of red wines, contained in a teapot. He pours her a glass, and she sips, just a few drops, but enough to paralyze her tongue. A sl...