when maggie opened her eyes, it was to see snow.
she stood before a long avenue of it. wolves bustled here and there. the little harlot recalled where this had once been, and walked out among them, marveling.
she turned to see a red room. two wolves. and herself on the bed.
"tup me," the beauty exclaimed.
but she did not fear. nor did she grieve. untied from the world of the mesa, maggie rose up and up until the red room became like a spot of blood, and then nothing else.
snow, embracing her. snow. 
maggie lacewell put out her tongue to catch the pale flakes of it and sang out her belting, bawdy laugh for the sheer and exquisite joy of it.