Comfort of Night

The warmth of the evening ebbed away, the flowers dipping their heads as sleep overcame them.  The trees fell silent, their whispered leaves still and calm.  A darkness slowly descended; the cosy comfort of night wrapping the world in sweet slumber.  The night enveloped the world in a cocoon of sweet dreams, safe from the stuff of nightmares.  Occasionally, a gentle breeze stirred, tenderly caressing the earth and kissing all that it touched.  With the dawning of daybreak, the world will rise from its rest with the sweetest of smiles, the day welcoming the soft babble of leaves once more. 

Visitors

The lights danced above them, transforming the night.  They stood transfixed by the display as the colours changed.  They could almost hear the music to which they moved, a low hum between the ears.  In that moment, there was nothing else.

Crowds gathered as the disc descended, blocking the night sky.  The world existed then in a no man’s land which the lights would claim as its own.

The music’s low hum grew, reverberating in their bones.  Yet they barely noticed it as the lights began to strobe, shooting out in beams to the ground.  One by one they disappeared.

Weather Beaten

He buttoned his coat against the bracing wind, forging onwards.  The wind kicked up fallen leaves that danced before him; taunting him, daring him to go on.  He ignored them as they pummelled into him, their fragile bodies disintegrating to dust.  Then came the rain, thrashing down hard onto every inch of him; his scalp soon beaten and bruised.  Each drop a bullet to the head, constant fire from the heavens.  Yet he was undeterred as he roamed, a deranged sneer he could not disguise across his weathered face.  The Heavens were no match for what Hell had in store. 

The Island of Lost Things

The Island of Lost Things exists in the space between sleep and awake, where dreams hover just out of reach.  Littered with the hopes and aspirations of every person that ever was, to explore the island one has to tread carefully.  Every inch is home to something that someone has lost sometime in their lives.  The most valuable lost item that can be found, though well hidden and therefore very hard to find, are the lost marbles.  If you should find these rare gems, more precious than gold, treat then kindly.  They are the anchor of us, our very essence.

Wish

With the last papery breath of time, she blew a wish.  It settled for an eternity on the dewy grass as the day slumbered.  The sun peeked through the trees, a lazy show of daybreak that kissed the gentle air.  The earth slept in a peaceful slumber, unshattered by her presence as she plucked wild flowers from the grassy embankment.  They shed tears as she snapped them at the stalk, dewy drops spreading on her cotton dress and mingling with her own.  Her dress weighted heavy now, soaked in a sorrow that not even time could take away. 

From the Outside

The flames were hypnotic as they licked the logs.  The embers escaped like fairies from their prison, dancing in the night sky, fading away to nothing in the cold night air.  Mesmerised by the beauty, stolen my the smell we entered another world that night.  The fire was our doorway, our escape to a place filled with magic; a hide away from such a cold, dark world.

As the flames died, so did the spirit of the night.  The clearing smoke revealed the world we had briefly escaped, but the smoke that clung to us would not let us forget.

The Fire

The flames were hypnotic as they licked the logs.  The embers escaped like fairies from their prison, dancing in the night sky, fading away to nothing in the cold night air.  Mesmerised by the beauty, stolen my the smell we entered another world that night.  The fire was our doorway, our escape to a place filled with magic; a hide away from such a cold, dark world. 

As the flames died, so did the spirit of the night.  The clearing smoke revealed the world we had briefly escaped, but the smoke that clung to us would not let us forget.