The start of a piece I never finished. It's actually a sequel, I'd like thoughts/opinions on what I should do with it.
The skeleton branches danced as shadows against the burning sunset. Through an opening at the base of the trees, a creek frozen in time swerved among the roots. The branches high above reflected on the ice like intricate distorted cracks. Roots rose from the frozen water like hands on a clock that had come to rest with the sudden freezing of the water, each seeming to have its own mark in time. Fallen twigs and branches formed a frozen mass that littered the forest floor in all directions that filled peripheral vision to the far depths of the gray snowflake-laden mist. Covered in a thin layer of frost, it caused the forest to glisten in random patterns with the sunset and change shape with the slow moving of the skeleton branches.
Transparent feet, holding the same physical features for all eternity, propelled a rifle-wielding silhouette silently through the forest. Following the river, the feet moved onward, not ever quite touching the ice. The rifle that the silhouette ran with, a .30 caliber BAR, will never ran out of ammunition, but held the same opaque properties of the feet of the silhouette. Held close among the descending snowflakes, the rifle was one key to the silhouette's identity that would never change with time. The silhouette that held the gun had no destination, yet he ran with a speed at admirable pace, following only the laws of physics he saw fit. The soul that powered this ghostly individual had a name, a name feared by all of those that hid among the shadows of the Time Stolen Forest. A name that flowed like the invisible muscles of his never-aging legs.
Richard Von Thream.
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