Inspired by the Gothic/Romantic literary tradition as well as by contemporary prose poetry.
After the snowstorm. I step outside into the unrecognizable ivory world. Different shades of white blanket the landscape – not pure but tinted, painted, dyed. Sparkling silver under the feeble sun, a touch of damask on a distant ridge, deep sapphire lurking in the shadows. The nearby wood a sinister wall of sentinels watching the manse. A blast of frigid wind strikes me suddenly, I stagger backwards but do not fall. Snow lifted violently from the ground wraps itself around me like a shimmering, freezing mantle. The cold engulfs me.
All is silent. A silence so deafening that it bears down on me, oppressive and frightening. Wishing for sound, I tread on the crystalline snow, my feet breaking through the thin film of ice with a comforting crunch. I distance myself from the sprawling, charcoal estate, sluggishly approaching the wild wood. The noise of my footfalls saturates me.
Until I stop. Halfway through the clearing I pause to catch my breath. A screech penetrates my concentration. I start, my heart quickens, my breath suddenly comes up short. Terror seizes me, its unrelenting icy grasp slowly asphyxiating me as I frantically search the surroundings. Again, but this time a piercing scream, echoing in my mind. My legs are moving, the forest draws nearer – I am running, trying to escape. The writhing, untamed trees reach towards me. Dark branches claw and cut. Falling on the frosty forest floor.