'Tis the Season for switching aesthetics · 9:31pm Dec 4th, 2017
I'm slowly but surely becoming a stereotypical white girl. By that, I don't mean that I wear those Uggs shoes or talk about "omg, fashion and celebrities." I just mean that I've been drinking lots of Starbucks coffee.
It's almost Christmas time. Winter comes slowly where I live, dragging autumn away, kicking and screaming. The leaves fall, but snow still has yet to come. It'll arrive late December, freezing the roads and turning everything white and sparkly.
The mental aesthetic I strive for switches too, from citrus to peppermint. I sip my peppermint mocha and look out the window at the barren trees outside. The thermostat broke last night, so the house is freezing, but we've got the fireplace to keep warm until it is fixed.
I'm filled with things that I wish I had said, a sort of chilling nostalgia for days long past. Hanging between autumn and winter, I am the leaf still clinging to the branch.
A story update, for those who care:
With the unexpected success of Twilight Tries to Get Fired, I've gained a few new followers. Welcome! I hope you enjoy my words and stay awhile!
I'm currently working on planning the next chapters of A Change in the Wind, and the beginnings of two new fics. The first, After Everything, is more or less on hold as I plan out the story better. The second has yet to be titled, but it features the tale of Princess Flurry Heart. Want a sneak peek? Check it out below!
Dying doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. It’s a sort of tingling, not really pain but a creeping numbness. It takes over my hooves and wings first, the tips first feeling almost itchy, then nothing at all. The numbness creeps up my limbs as I take a deep breath, then another. I’ve got only a few breaths left before… well, I die. I want to make the most of each, but they take only a few seconds, just like they always do.
The cocoon I am in is slowly filling with liquid. I can see it if I shift, but it’s getting harder to move. Thick, syrupy liquid oozes over my hooves. I wish I could feel it, but it’s numb where it touches. I can’t even tell if it’s warm or cool. The dim light of the cave shines through the thick waxy walls of the chrysalis, shining on my fur with an eerie glow. It turns my pink fur a murky brown, and I wish I could light up my horn to see my normal colors for the last time, but I am far too weak to cast even the simplest of spells.
So, this is how it ends, then. My limbs fade to nothingness, and the tingling sensation creeps up my abdomen. The liquid is rising faster too. I wonder vaguely if I will drown before I lose consciousness, if I will feel myself choking. Maybe my last breath won’t be of air, but of thick slime oozing down my throat and into my lungs. I would shudder at that thought if I could move, but it’s starting to get difficult to even keep my eyes open. I have to hold on to whatever colors I can see, even if it’s shades of sickly sea-green.
My eyelids are so heavy, though, and I don’t want to drown. It might be a little thing, but I want my final breath to be of air, however stale it is. There’s a small hole in the top of the cocoon, but it’s only there to aid in its filling of liquid. The air smells like my breath, and I idly wish I’d brushed my teeth. Heh, I’d laugh if I could at that thought. It’s a waste of time, thinking about that, and time is something I have precious little of.
Slowly, my eyelids close, though I wish they wouldn’t. I’m so very tired, and I can’t feel much of anything. The only sensations I have left are the warm air rushing in and out of my lungs. In, and out. I concentrate on that. It’s fairly relaxing. So, this is how I die. Alone, trapped, with no one and nothing. The loneliness strikes me more than anything else. I’m not used to the silence.
I feel a faint dampness on my neck, then it too fades. Ah, the liquid is warm, then. It’s a pleasant temperature. I don’t know whether that’s comforting, and I’m just too tired to care. My breathing slows. In. And out.
They say your life is supposed to flash before your eyes as you die, but I don’t see anything. There’s only blackness, and silence, and breathing. I almost wish I’d die already, and that it would come sooner, because it’s awful waiting for it to happen. It’s like tottering on the edge of a cliff, wishing you’d either fall or rock to safety. Hanging there, suspended in the air. The moment feels like forever.
My mouth is shut, but I can still feel the liquid brush against my lips. In, and out, and in, and out. If my life were to flash before my eyes, it wouldn’t even start with me, would it? No, it would start with a meeting of strangers I had never met, deciding the most important choice of my life without my say. I’d like to see that, I really would, but I suppose those that said my life would flicker in my vision weren’t the ones who were dying.
In. I wonder, vaguely, what my parents would think of me dying alone. I hope they remember me.
Out. I can’t feel anything. I’m alone, this is it, this is how it ends.
In. A trickle of liquid, but I hardly notice it.
Out. I’m probably making bubbles. Heh, bubbles. No one will hear me die with a laugh, but I’m laughing, and that’s my last thought. I’m laughing.
In. My lungs fill with warm, thick liquid, and everything fades. I am so tired, but I die with a laugh, alone.
I’m getting ahead of myself, though. Perhaps I should start at the beginning.
Hell where you live sounds like a better description of Wisconsin
yeah snows a late boomer this year i bet when it does finally its gonna hit hard tennessee but originally from new hampshire
The coldness turns me somber and sleepless, and I tend to start porchsitting for long stretches of time. As much as I hate the cold, I stay in it. I'm really excited about your new changeling project! aND GHOSTIEY
I live in Alaska, and it's raining right now. WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING!?
When the cold comes, I tend to get on a half-liquid diet, because tea, and hot chocolate, and broth, and soup.... I'm not even having a single "solid" meal today except breakfast which was oranges and toast.
Also that is a heck of a compelling start to a story.
its still like 45* here, last year we were already 6" in white stuff XC
Well I don't know when that Flurry Heart story is coming out, but I am looking forward to it!