Steven Brust is ridiculous

One the better opening sentences of recent memory, courtesy of Steven Brust.

Snow, tenderly caught by eddying breezes, swirled and spun in to and out of bright, lustrous shapes that gleamed against the emerald-blazoned black drape of sky and sparkled there for a moment, hanging, before settling gently to the soft, green-tufted plain with all the sickly-sweetness of an over-written sentence.

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