Below is one of the first completed pieces that will appear in my short story collection, By Your Hands. The piece below was inspired by seeing how humanity continues to repeat the mistakes of their past and how it is seemingly impossible to escape the death that follows.
I look forward to hearing your thoughts…
Each shallow breath dissipates before the warmth of his next. He grips his chest with one hand, grasping for anything with the other. There is nothing around him except for the snow painted a lovely shade of red.
He raises an arm as to beckon me toward him, attempting to speak—any words drowned out by the piercing screams inside my head. He struggles to hold his gaze, dipping into the dark expanse spreading beneath him. I walk away.
I feel each deafening beat inside me weaken, the crisp air biting at my lungs. I grip my chest as the staccato pulse of my heart beats rhythmically with the ephemeral fog clouding my vision. I collapse, my hands sheathed beneath the snow painted a lovely shade of red. A silent figure hovers at my side, motionless, watching. I raise my arm toward him, unable to speak. He walks away.