Amazing story by a talented writer.

A wild rose in a sea of dead thorns is still as beautiful as fragrant //


Dead winter branches crisscrossed against the sable sky, marking deep cleaves in the solemn and dark heart of the forest. Save for those withered branches that drew in ragged breathes of icy wind all through the long cold nights, there was but no other life prying in these parts. The only amusement to that truth had been a girl, still a pink flower of childish youth, who meandered through the carpet of blood-and-brown hued dried leaves, smooth as a stream. Whence she had come, or why she was here – and at that too, all alone, no one could have told. Yet, she showed all the signs of having been exiled from the sphere of human existence along with her one comrade- the untamed beauty of nature all around and within her.


View original post 615 more words