✧ ཻུ۪۪. love is the most beautiful of dreams ,
and the worst of nightmares . . .
the walking dead | season 4 - 8
( carl grimes x fem!oc )
❁ ↷
12/20/20 & 6/17/22 - #1 in chanderriggs
5/26/22 & 1/28...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
⋆
THE EARTH WAS CLOSEST TO THE SUN, during the winter.
It was a ludicrous truth, to some portions of the world. A contradicting nature, that proved how the nurturing star looming above, in which blinded their flowers with light, was nothing more than a fraud. One lacking entity, that rejected the willpower to warm their skin with the summer heat that prickled their complexion, until a sheen of glimmered perspiration dampened relieved pores with swelled moisture.
Rather, did that point of a guidance, and grand celestial body, only fail them, even more so, when the cold set in. An attempt at the more frigid months of the year, at least — with temperatures that fell from a sweltering high, to a moderate breeze. A chill that unsettled their pack, originating from the southern lands of the nation, even if the bite to their complexion had been weak, compared to the previous northern winter's Virginia had endured. Certainly, there was an ounce of luck ingrained within mother nature that year, without one singular, fatal snow fall, or incident of meteorological conditions that numbed any of their skin to an uncomfortable, bitter, vivid cerise.
It may have come as a shock, to hear how Ella had never seen snow, in all of her years of living.
Part of moving toward Virginia had its perks, though, disregarding the clear safety advantage of traveling north. For, while time passed, and evolved — so, did her lively imagination, regarding the possibilities, of the most trivial aspect of her childish view on purified snow. Ella had pictured it for awhile, by now, how it would feel, to press the palm of her hand, into the prickling thorns of soft ice, and allowing for her skin to be absorbed into the imprint of fluffed sleet. The part of her mind that still resided in a small town from Flordia continued to wonder how much the flakes of snow muffled the sound waves of life, or if the excitement of catching the unique powder with your own tongue had been worth the worldly hype.
