The ancient woman smiled in pure bliss, closing her eyes and tilting her facws upwards to the sky. Her silvery hair blew away from her back, her arms outstreched as if to touch the corners of the earth. She opened her eyes, and, giggling like a child, ran and picked a wild rose from its thorny bush. In doing so, she pricked her thumb on a particuarily sharp thorn. She held the rose to her face, inhaling the sweet scent. Holding the rose in one hand, she falls back against the crinkling leaves. She watched the sunset, the vibrant colors dancing across the sky. She sighs, a tear running down her cheek.
"Henry..." she whispered to the still night sky. Then she closed her eyes for the last time, succuming to the beckoning on eternal rest.
In the morning, when the park's regular patrons jog past, to absorbed in their busy lives to notice anythng, all that remains of the woman is a single wild rose.
YOU ARE READING
Red,Black,White
FantasíaNow, I know what you're thinking. It's just some dumb Snow White story- who would ever want to read that? Well, this version of Snow White is a little... different. Mainly because it's TRUE! See, when I told the story to the Grimm brothers, they jus...
