Is “overwrought apocalyptic” a tautology?
The ice falls, swept by time and what first impulse I do not know, only that now it falls, free in its falling, the drift of it I envy. See it roll. See the breaking of it, ice on ice, the brightness of it breaking in the twilight, breaking into shards, into dust, into shining, into a haze of light, into darkness: see it vanish.
Terrence Holt, “Aurora,” from In the Valley of the Kings, p. 59.
I know other people liked it, but it made me feel all sticky and irritable.