The maiden and the whirlwind – II

Walking back from the river through her oaks garden she stops looking at the gates, breathless but her heart racing like million musical notes on a violin string.

“Finally”, she says in soft voice as she sees the footprints. And she just stands there; not feeling the bitter wind blowing through her hair, not feeling the cold flakes melting on her skin.

She looks sadly happy in the grey light of the morning. Dreaming her dreams with eyes wide opened, looking far away over the treetops high, barefoot in the snow.

This is going to be the season she waited for so long. Starting with the midnight sun she is going to be no longer by herself.

They are there.

The wolves are back on those lands. They are finally coming for her.

To rip her apart, steal her magics and end her pointless so called life.

This entry was posted in Creativ writing and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s