“Well…there’s only one glove. Right away, I wonder, where’s the other glove? How did it become separated from its mate? Does it feel lost and confused without its other half? It looks lonely. Cold. Like an outsider that has no one to turn to, nowhere to go. And the stark contrast of the white snow against the bright colors of the glove makes the lines crisp and clear. It makes that feeling of alienated loneliness crisp and clear. The purity of the snow gives the purity of the glove’s solitude a stronger effect.”

“Don’t be the glove in the snow. Fight for what you know is right. Be the coat. You’re not lost and alone on this.”

“Abruptly he thrust his snow-drenched leather gloves against my cheeks.I dodged. A raw carnal feeling blazed up within me, branding my cheeks. I felt myself staring at him with crystal clear eyes...From that time on I was in love with Omi.”

“Black moleskin gloves covered his hands; the right because it was burned, the left because a man felt half a fool wearing only one glove.”

“The woman turns away; one wing blackens like an onyx gem while the other glows white like a bright spotlight. She flies into the sky, leaving the crowd staring in astonishment. Angels fly away in two directions. Half make a black storm of moving, twisting shapes. The other half forms a white-as-snow moving cloud. The ranks are divided.”

“The glove suddenly feels much heavier, now, more dense. The rush of power didn’t come through me, but wrapped around me; invisible and strangely empty, like a purely mechanical force. It wasn’t like I just got stronger; it was separate from me, like something stepped in and punched him instead of me. I pull the glove off gingerly, half afraid I’ll punch my own fingers off.”