Old Snips (a collection of old writing)

unnamed snippet #5

The air tonight feels cold. It ebbs and flows throughout the room, ever so slightly, and ever so quietly. I sit in my study, with all my things sitting in the dark, enveloped by the soft glow of my lamp. Blossom Dearie plays in the background, gently lulling my woes to sleep.

A silhouette of a person slowly started to form on the corner of my room. Slowly but surely, a man dressed in black appeared. His face held a tiny smile that could soothe any lonely soul. He stood still in the faint darkness, and leveled their gaze upon mine. In his hands was a bouquet of limp, withering poppies. The petals softly swayed with the air. Without saying a word, he gently placed the bouquet of poppies on the palm of my open hand and closed it. The smile on his face grew more warmer, and a single tear can be seen dripping down his cheek as he caressed my head for a short second. Muttering out a gentle goodbye, he walked off to the distance and disappeared from view.

Needless to say, the room felt a little more warmer than it did before. I dragged myself to bed and slept soundly, taking comfort from the idea that there was someone to watch over me.

discord. feb 1, 2021. 2:43am.