There, In The Corner...

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There, in the corner, stood three misshapen chairs. Made of wood-knots and found fragments, some old hands had once fastened them together in a likeness of themselves and the chairs took on the demeanour of palm-cups, ready to hold whatever set upon them. They had lived a long time in this pale room, which only ever seemed to shine with a soft, wintry light. The people, their minds in knots and fragments, would come and go, forever changing, they left fingerprints of sky-ice.

The Collection Featured An Odd Assortment...

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The collection featured an odd assortment of spindly, dry foliage. The leaves had sprouted from the top of long, thin stalks which sat in their own small space upon the table. Some rested in small vases, others sat upon their own dehydrated bulbs and roots which had been plucked from the ground whole. Each herb or flower had lost its particular enchantment, their spells had drained as they dried, lost to the shadows in the soil.

The Words Passed

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The words passed across the tiny distance between them, cocooned in the warmth of breath. They spoke in a fractured daze, of the long evening, the days coming, and the years it had been since they last met.

In The Distance She Saw The Mountain...

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In the distance she saw the mountain, its peaks enveloped in a confusion of white wings. They swirled like May-ribbons, entranced and attracted by the safe, rocky ledges but ever recoiling from the cold surface. She made her way within the whirlwind of weathers, edging closer to mountain path. It arched away from her and she gazed up, up to the crags that held such dear treasure.

With The World So White..

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With the world so white, and frozen, winter was when light fractured at first sight of snow and disintegrated into curves of colour across the land. We lived by the edge of forest then, watching sunshine fall apart at break of day and rush back upon itself to nightfall. All the trees were hung with opals and pearls, and we picked them like fruit, ghost fruit that melted when they touched our lips.

The Chalky Flowers Bloomed...

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The chalky flowers bloomed, despite the lack of air and dragging damp of the windowsill. Their leaves stretched out like vines, reaching higher, ever higher, towards a fresher climate. The world outside had drowned for days and the view had diluted into drab flat hues. As the days drifted, the children's eyes became as washed out as the world and their hearts gasped in their sodden cages.

The Pea-Blooms Lingered Long...

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The pea-blooms lingered long that year. The sun, warm from languid days turned and became pale, silent and crisp. Some glow was left in September and it caressed the flowers, their petals flourished and clung to fingertips that called on them. Days clocked on, and mists curled across the land with a darkening intensity, leaving leaves burnished and bronze, and the peas clutched ever closer to their house of wires. They remained the last stand of summer.