Picture if you will a small town in some ancient majestic mountains. This town lays in a valley that is surrounded like a bowl by high arching cliff walls. The only thing you can see beyond these high walls are mounds and mounds of snow, ice, and beyond that the glistening points of the mountain peaks beyond. The town grows its own food and provides for itself with no outside interference, the only season is a mild winter and harsh winter. Years and generations pass but they never experience summer. Finally, one year they wake up to a warm day.. they wander out into the sun and stand their basking in it, letting the sun soak into their skins. The sun sets and they go back to bed. They wake the next day to see the valley floor flooded with melted snow. Only a few inches of water, nothing to worry about. The sun breaks free of the clouds and once again they are hypotized by it. The next the same thing. Each day following the water rises but the sun gets warmer. Days pass, weeks, finally the valley is almost flooded to the brim. The only ones left alive are treading water, many have drown but none recognize their peril. One by one they cramp up and sink to the bottom of a water grave. The last survivor witnesses the warmest day, the heat is comfortable, the air is warm and humid. His legs pump vigrously but with each churn he losses strengths. The sun begins to set and his legs give out. As he sinks he fails to panic for air but rather focuses on the sun through the surface of the water.... the last one visits the many before him.
I feel like one of the last survivors. my legs pumping furiously, the warm sun soaking me through and my senses clouded to the peril that has crept upon me. Death is near but the beauty that surrounds me is too much to care....I embrace my watery grave if only to see the sun one last time.
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2 comments:
that is so beautiful...
I really really want you to expand this into a short story at the very least.
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