Tuesday, 22 September 2009


It was cold outside. It had been for days.
The wind chiselled away at the world. The trees were frozen stiff.
They had nothing to say. Snow poured down.
Amongst the cold, a man walked; a small black dot on a white horizon.
He was making his way towards a small shack that stood on a nearby hill.

Eventually he reached the shack. He opened the door. He shut the door.
The land of snow rested, silent except for the sound of the wind.
After a while smoke appeared; drifting out from the chimney of the shack.

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