Thursday, September 25, 2014

Flash Fiction # 3



                I slammed my fist against a tree trunk.  It wasn’t the wisest thing to do, considering all it did was shower snow into my hair.  I was shivering, but the cold had nothing to do with it.  I had no idea what to do now and was confused as to where to start.  Snowflakes prickled the back of my neck and I brushed them off with a flash of anger.  Hot tears stung my eyes as I remembered the events of earlier today.   I sat there crying for a seemingly endless time, whispering my sorrows to the trees and rocks around me.  Eventually, I looked up at the sky and watched the snowflakes glittering like stars.  The little pieces of ice and snow swirled and turned, sparkled and twinkled, melting in the noon day sun.  I reached out the finger and softly caught one of the flakes, foolishly clinging to it like one does cling to hope.  Oddly enough, touching the snow flake made me feel warmer than I had in a long time.

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