On one side of the river, a fresh blanket of snow glistened in the morning rays. Millions of tiny stars shone out of the ice, a perfect reflection of the heavens at night.
On the other side, thousands upon thousands of frosty angels scattered across the ground. Motionless, frozen still. Their hollow shells like footprints, carving a path of crimson devastation through a canvas of once pristine white.
The air bit against my face, frost forming on my brows as I stood. Watching, waiting.
A laugh. Quiet, so quiet I almost missed the ghostly sound. It carried on the icy breeze, biting at my bare skin as it danced by. I turned, my face blasted into an icicle as the wind howled past.
A child, no older than ten, ran out from behind a tree, laughing all the way. Her hair, a cascade of woven silk down their back, shimmered in the falling snow.
"Father!" cried the girl as she raced over the canvas of pristine snow. Her eyes, deep green as the forest she emerged from, were wide with wonder. "Look!"
Her face was blushing scarlett, so I took it into my hands to warm. Her eyes were glass, wide and unblinking.
She pointed to the disturbed field beside us. "Did you see what I did?"
I took my hands away, smiling. They were dark and sticky.
I glanced between my child and the field beside us, and threw myself into the snow, adding myself to her newest creation.
About the Creator
Maddy Haywood
Hi there! My name's Maddy and I'm an aspiring author. I really enjoy reading modernised fairy tales, and retellings of classic stories, and I hope to write my own in the future. Fantasy stories are my go-to reads.
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On Aging well.
When you learn something new, your memory center lights up like a Christmas tree...stimulating it, creating a loop of new information. That stimulation is like a workout for the hippocampus. (The elongated ridges on the floor of each lateral ventricle of the brain, thought to be the centre of emotion, memory, and the autonomic nervous system).
By Novel Allen3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Another beautifully descriptive piece, but this time the little girl flips the script! It makes for a vivid picture at the ending. "Their hollow shells like footprints, carving a path of crimson devastation through a canvas of once pristine white." is so well-written. Nicely done:)
Interesting imagery