Excerpt

Underneath
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. The air crisp on my pale skin. I could not remember a time when the air was not piercing. The cold sang its beautifully sullen song every day, with no sign of becoming fatigued. It kept me on my toes. For here, if you place one wrong foot, you risk losing it. I had seen it happen many times, and never again will I not look down at my footing. There were brave ones who walked in groups; each week counting the casualties. There were those who didn't move at all, and those who only moved in a rhythmic pattern. Then there were those like me, lone wanderers. That is what they call us. The ones no one pays attention to. The ghosts. But whatever the role you chose, it didn't really matter. Because every night at midnight we all stopped, took a deep breath of bravery, and looked up. That one habitual act of reverence tied us all together, only moments before the clouds turned to a dark, looming green. The spell was broken, and we all went on our ways.
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