firelight
the lantern swung lazily from his outstretched hand. it gave off only the faintest glow, a soft yellow light banishing just the edges of the darkness. the street was deserted, as was expected. no one came out at night. no one would dare to.
carrots littered the ground by his feet. he was used to the constant teasing and cruel jokes, but the carrots that came pouring out of his locker was definitely a new one. carrots for carrot-top. next time it will be ginger.
the door to the decrepit old cabin was left slightly ajar. approaching carefully upon a rotting porch, she swung it open with creak on its rusty hinges, revealing a scene of pure desolation.
she folded the piece of paper. once, twice, three times. it glittered blue and gold. four times, five times, six times. it glittered purple and red. seven times, eight times, nine times and the glitter shifted again. dimly she was aware that this shouldn't be possible, but ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, and something folded in her.
the cinders were falling gently from a grey sky, inky black clouds spreading farther and farther as the heat rained down along with the ash. everything was burning, and all they could do was watch as their world fell apart around them.
she stood calmly on the shore of a crystal clear lake, rocks visible beneath the gentle current. the wind stirred her hair and the light reflected off the gold of her eyes. she didn't belong here, but she would never miss the opportunity to mimic a human.
she was wearing the strangest overcoat he'd ever seen. it shone in the fading evening light, shimmers of red and gold and the soft pink of sunset. it could have given its own ethereal light, but for the forlorn look of the woman wearing it.
she was spinning round and round, colours flashing and glittering all around her, a dizzying kaleidoscope of dreams and nightmares just waiting to be released.
she looked over the edge of the cliff. standing amidst blades of dying grass and dust, watching the waterfall send cascades crashing to the rocks below, the waters churning and frothing and promising a swift and beautiful end to it all.
the tree was bent, broken, branches at odd angles and the split trunk sticking up from the ground like some twisted mockery of survival. because what could it do but survive? the harsh terrain it had grown in, now its ultimate destruction.
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