Stipped Bare

The oak tree had lost its imposing authority as its branches were stripped bare.  Autumn had shed it of its leaves, a skeleton shivering as it lay exposed.  It had fought hard, clinging onto the last, but it could not beat the encroaching inevitability of autumn’s wicked ways.  Now the frailty of its being was made apparent to the world, the branches quivering as the wind that only autumn knows wrapped its tendrils around each and every one.  They creaked and moaned as they screamed in an unheard agony carried away on the wind. 

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Eternity

Time stretched out, an eternity to be endured.  The harshest winter held them in its grip, having crept upon them without warning.  It was an insufferable shock when it set in; a deep chill that could not be shaken, taking a hold in a way only nightmares do.  Yet they knew from this they could not wake.  They trembled in their own skin, unable to escape the torment as the icy cold embrace settled in their very bones.  Hearts began to freeze, an anchor pulling them under into an inescapable existence; an eternal wintertime enslaving them.