As the tall, cloaked figure walked though the dreary meadow, the gnarled and grim trees seemed to stick out of the abyssal darkness. The man clutched a bouquet of flowers tightly in his hands. His knuckles turning white from how he grips it, as if it's his last possession. The figure's golden eyes glow from the darkened hood. It trudges forward, through the heavy mist and disturbing aura of the wood. Animals grazing nearby would flee in fear of the hooded figure as it walked by, as if fear itself was staring them down. The man stops at a tree and looks up to the sky. His gaze settles on the full moon and the fabulous array of stars above. He seems fascinated and in true peace as he sees the lights above. He keeps walking on, as if looking for something. The man stops at the bottom of a large and ancient oak tree. He looks down and drops the flowers on top a stone protruding from the earth. A single tear hits the ground as the figure lingers there, then promptly collapsing to his knees.
YOU ARE READING
From The Dark, Comes Light.
FantasyA man takes a walk through the deepest depths of his mind. He witnesses old wounds and old days be relived and ripped away.
