Collections 1

Two People, Alone.

A cold and harsh wind whips and harasses the wooded, snowless, and mossy fjord. The heartless gale is cold enough to freeze a grown bear's bones to it's flesh and quick enough to outrun any frightened fox.
The water is no more merciful, the wind riling it up into a wild frenzy of white-capped waves that crash into each other like enraged bucks. They crash against the endless rocky beach just as violent. Spraying water high enough to strike some unfortunate seagulls from the sky and far enough that it assaults the fringe trees with water cold enough and sharp enough that it could be mistaken for an axe. Stoically, the tall grey-green pines stand unflinching against the attack. Allowing the water to simply splash off of their branchless lower trunks.
The sun herself seems to want none of this depressingly beautiful corner of the world. Hiding behind a sky full of muted grey clouds, just grey and heavy enough to imply a brewing storm. Giving the misty afternoon a subtle dulled tone that disallows most shadows from forming noticeable impressions.
Yet amongst all this chaos, two lonely spirits happenstance upon each other. The wind not causing any discomfort, the water's spray not a bother, the lack of comforting warmth from the sun seemingly not awry for them. They seemingly recognize and empathize with one another, alone in this grey and freezing fjord. As a gentle and timid snow begins to fall, one chooses to greet the other.

"Hello."

"Hi."