firelight
he was shrouded in darkness. it permeated the air, the world around him. it was suffocating, enthralling. it was enticing and terrifying. the darkness was everything. breathe it, feel it, be it. one with the darkness, one with the silence, one with no one but himself.
she loved being behind the camera. it was where she could breathe, focus, concentrate on what mattered. the beautiful, the unique, the wild and the tame. it was all perfect, because it was all hers to capture when she could.
the sun was setting over the ocean's gentle waves. colours painted the sky, soft shades of violet and pink. the water lapped quietly upon the shore, allowing for a brief bit of respite from the world.
there were so many children. an entire brood of them. they were coughing, sweating, feverish and sick. what happened? where were their parents? who did this, and why? the answer can never be known, for this brood of children will be the last they ever see.
it shone brilliantly. a ruby, the deepest red. a sapphire, the most incredible blue. an emerald, the most beautiful green. the vibrant colours shifted constantly, changing shade and shape under the night sky.
the waves rise and crash against the shore. sea foam, green and blue and white, sprays forth from the ocean's mouth. it gets more intense as time passes, more urgent, more desperate. the rising crescendo of an angry ocean.
it was beautiful, a mosaic of memories and emotions, of sights and scents and sounds. it was a whole life laid out in front of you, telling you the story of yourself. and it was worth it.
the winter wind was cold, biting. the snowflakes swirled, first soft, then frantic, like her heart, her mind. panic, then calm. panic, then calm. the silence was deafening, when not broken by the wind. she was alone, alone, alone.
there was a light, far in the distance. it was small, almost a pinprick, but it promised freedom. the shadows were growing darker, if that were possible. they seemed to take on a substance of their own. shadows can't hurt you, but what can we say for that which lies within?
there was a light, far in the distance. it was small, almost a pinprick, but it promised freedom. the shadows were growing darker, if that were possible. they seemed to take on a substance of their own. shadows can't hurt you, but what can we say for that which liae
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