The Beginning Of An Ending
I'm just this guy, you know?
To expand on that, I am also the following...
- A former ficly member who is 38 years old and is schizoaffective (depressive type)
- Into creating languages and fantasy worlds from scratch
- A listener of audiobooks & good tunes
- Always too hard on myself
The wind blew and gusted to Maya's back, blowing her long black hair into her face as she walked through the icy park that morning. They were like thick tendrils wrapping around her head and, ever annoyingly, kept fluttering around her mouth and her eyes.
"The one morning I forgot a hair tie..." she thought to herself.
A few straggling ducks were sitting by the shore of the iced over pond.
Maya questioned why ducks would be out on a day like this. The ducks wondered the same about her.
It wasn't a good day for it, but then what day would have been? It was an ending and endings are morose affairs. They don't deserve good days. They deserve miserable, cold and blowy days so that they have less of a chance of ruining anything.
A black silhouette appeared at the other end of the park walking towards her on the path.
Her boots left prints in the snow, but soon enough they would be covered and forgotten, like she hoped this day would be.
It had to be done. It had to end.
And it would.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (1 so far!)
- Published 6 years ago.
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"Endings are morose affairs.. and they deserve miserable, cold and blowy days so that they have less of a chance of ruining things."
Also, all things end, one way or another. I'm not sure what the black silhouette has to do with it, hopefully nothing, but I'm rooting for a healing ending.