It was ghost quiet. Not a single bird chirped nor did rivulets of water gush on this twilight.
The mystical sky lay still, tinged pitch black, as the wisped, misty clouds floated like steam, gently through. It enveloped the world below, threatening its inhabitants.
Naked bare trees sprung from the dense, murky ground, their roots planted firmly beneath. It twisted upward, forming convoluted shapes, unique to each sprout. They stood still. The thin, cold breeze barely shook a single branch.
Though desolate, glowing balls of sunshine lay afloat within the cage of the crooked branches that held them guilty. Guilty for their faint glow that emanated throughout the landscape. The warmth of its radiant gleam illuminated the eerie and dingy environment. Sporadic groups of glistening spores danced gracefully around the trees like scintillating fireflies.
Crisp and crumpled leaves swept briskly to the ground. They lay still, fluttering ever so often when the gentle breeze lay its biting cold touch upon it.
The black river flowed swiftly but at the same time looked still. No ripples were seen as the wind swooped above its placid, crystalline surface. It perfectly reflected the luminescent glow of the lights and its cursed boughs that entrapped magnificence.
It was beguiling, that night. As inhospitable, dreadful and secluded as it was, its insurmountable beauty couldn’t be denied.
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