The Blizzard Died
White. She loved the white.
All around her swirling snow, cold ice brushing past her. The ice crystals would have cut somebody else, but not her. The ice and snow
(were tears)
did not worry her. Ice and snow were
(her tears)
long time friends of hers. They
(were Okaasan's tears)
would not hurt her. They were
(their tears)
hiding her. The wind
(raging)
whipped the
(tears for Papa)
snow up into a near solid wall. A wall that parted before her. Pushed at her.
Urging.
Urging her away.
She should be almost invisible in the swirl. It was a shield. A shield from
(akuma)
something gold that stained the white with
(Papa!)
red. She almost thought that the storm wished to see her escape from the
(diable)
gold. Then, all at once
(Okaasan!!!)
the storm died. She could see clearly ahead of her. She stopped
(Baka!Baka!Fille stupide!)
and looked about the suddenly still forest. She lighted hesitantly upon the ground watching the snow and debris settle. She
(Run!Vite!Maintenant!Sassato!)
waited for
(Okaasan est mort)
someone. Then she felt the
(void)
empty-cold. The nothing-cold. The aura of the
(devil)
gold. And she turned around, seeing the gleaming blade as it struck downward and















Comments
--
I pass my evenings in long galleries solely,
And that's the reason I'm so melancholy.
-Lord Byron
Previous PageNext Page