[untitled] part 1

The night’s air was frosty as the white snow gently drifted earthbound from the dark sapphire blue skies above. The moon and stars dazzled the sapphire canvas. The sporadic cloud glided lazily along the air currents of this cold winter night high above a forest that seemed never-ending. The towering trees in the forest caught the snow as it fell and by the light of the moon, they seemed to sparkle. The forest was a soothing quiet except for the mellifluous creaking of the boughs under their newfound weight. A gentle glow radiated throughout this place, as if it was placed under a spell. A tender wind blew through the trees of this enchanted forest, caressing the tender face of a young girl. She lay in a deep slumber at the base of the tallest spruce…1

Cloaked in a long, snow-white robe, I picked my path carefully through this strange forest. In my arms, I carried one of the most stunningly, gorgeous girls I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Embedded with a soft, pink rose, her hair was a light brown, a beige colour, which flowed in waves down her face and ended just after her shoulders. Her face was flawless; her eyebrows gently arched above her still closed eyes. Her lips, curved upwards in a gentle smile, were a light pink. Her porcelain skin was concealed by a long red gown and a white coat obscured her gently curving body. Her neck was adorned with a small necklace with a humble diamond resting there on her timid chest. She seemed to be in good health and possibly about two years younger than I was. I didn’t have the heart to leave her there no matter how at peace she seemed.2

After traversing for about what appeared to be an hour through the forest, we came upon a small clearing around which the spruce seemed to form a perfect circle. As the white canopy parted around the clearing, nothing hindered the snowflakes from sailing down to the forest floor. A small wooden cottage was located in the centre of the clearing. Its windows were shuttered and the snow was creeping up to their sills. I started along the winding shovelled path to the heavy oak door of the cottage with the lass still deep in slumber in my arms.