First in this week…
The mass rolled towards them from afar. She came from the snow-peaked mountains, tumbling over the hills, obscuring the clear blue sky.
‘How long?’
‘A day, at most.’
‘We should go.’
‘She will find us. There is no point in running.’
The darkness would one day cover the whole world. The light would be blocked out. The winter would take hold.
‘There is nothing we can do?’
‘We had our chance. If we had acted decades ago…’
As it grew nearer, the leaves fell from the trees, wilting and dying. Nature decayed, snow and ice covered the land. They accepted their fate. The reign of the humans would end with them.
‘It has been a good life.’
‘It has, but at such a cost.’
‘Regrets?’
‘Only in our ending.’
They embraced, watching their fate approach. The evil power of the Snow Queen enveloped them. They crystallised, their blood stilled in their…
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An invitation to writephoto writers…
If Jerome Corbel needed inspiration, and lately he’d needed a lot his allotment was his go to happy place. But Donald McJohn was a persistent little bugger and when he said, ‘Walk with me’, even suggesting you were worried that your cabbages weren’t red enough didn’t cut it as an excuse.
even through
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 