Memories of White

Memories of White

-It was the type of snow that left the impression of a fog across the land. Though the hours had changed to those of early morning, one figure sat vigilant in a high window of the estate.

Iszac cradled his niece in gentle arms. The girl had woken earlier in the night from a fit of terror, thus seeking the comfort of her nocturnal guardian. While the suggestion of warmth and happiness was felt in their position; Iszac could not help but feel the cold bitter bite of ice in his heart.

A memory of silver eyes, and ice colored hair. Of frost tinged skin and pale pink lips, of the perpetual smell of winter.

His beautiful one, on an evening like this it had been that fate had favored them with an encounter. The ache grew steadily every year, with the coming and going of the snow. The hurt of knowing however much he desired it; his beloved would never again appear before him in the swirling white. Iszac fortified himself from his sorrow, it would not do to let himself break and awaken the child. And so he sat dwelling stoically, as he would for many winters to come; the memories of white a dull comfort to his loneliness.

………

This picture was not meant to be so sad in the beginning, but it slid that direction in the end. It’s hard to lose the love of your life; it must hurt to be reminded of them. Iszac still has moments, though he has really improved since the original event.

First picture here! And in MS Paint, I really love the effects you can wrestle out of that tool!