Winter MMXXII: An unintelligible tale of lost self

He woke up by the crack of a twig, discombobulated. It was as if he had been torn away from his slumbery thoughts. Or had it been aid? He wasn’t quite sure.

A breeze of fresh air made him shiver. Laying underneath a thin layer of fir branches, with an uneasy feeling he tried to relive the past day — without success. The sun had already begun to rise behind the distant hills and winter’s ruthlessness slowly crept to overpower his feeble hull.

Glistening in the morning twilight of lust and shrubbery were specks intertwined with an all-consuming frosty blanket. Haze had started to form and coated the surrounding forest in mellow tints of earthy warmth. Longingly he set out to escape.

The further he journeyed, the more I realized who he was. I finally came to a stop; though still hurting for shelter. He was surprised to realize my state of being and I gasped in shock: As the snow melted, so did we and before the last mount had softened into a puddle, there was no one to admire night’s departure.