She paused, and time paused with her. There is nothing to be said, unless you know what you are saying.
How would you know? How can you live a life that is not a gift, but rather a fate - a wound that could not be healed?
Furtively, she advanced her gaze towards the tangible shadow, where a barrier drew light from dark. The sinuous arms of a grandfather clock began its daily revolution.
The bell struck twelve. Midnight.
Tick! A mother’s countenance shivers into view, and screams reverberate throughout the chapel. Upon the threshold of immortality, crimson blossoms into a vivid memory.
Tick! A scarlet rose. Never had she believed there to be another. Playing a demure smile, the woman scampers away.
Tick! In the dingy London streets, a russet hearse trudges sluggishly along. Trailing unobtrusively, the translucent menace pursues its victim.
Tick!
Tick!
Tick!
She opened her eyes to be welcomed by another smile and another flash of vivacious red. Behind her, time paused, but she did not dare to stop with it.
The dark shadow plunged sluggishly toward the snow, playing its elusive figure once more.
She closed her one window to the world, and her resounding sigh snaked through the strands of her sedate hair before sinking to a broken void.
I accept.
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Hope you enjoy! The tense switch was done on purpose; I'm only stating this to avoid any confusion.
Ah, I'm heading towards the art store soon. That's a prospect to look forward to, I suppose.
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