Val

Above, the sky hangs heavy and gray. Flat. Endless. A cruel contrast to the powdery white beneath me, now blooming red where my body rests. The color spreads slowly, almost gently, as if the cold is drinking me in.

I should be shivering. But my senses have dulled, edges blunted by the cold that has seeped deep into my bones. The chill doesn’t bite anymore. It doesn’t hurt. It simply exists, vast and consuming, until even that begins to fade.

My breathing comes shallow, fog drifting from my lips and dissolving into nothing. Flashes spark behind my eyes; bright, fractured moments slipping in and out of focus. I expect my life to unfold before me, some grand show of memories, joy and regret alike. That’s what they say happens at the end, after all.

Like I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER YOUR AIR, PLEASE SPEAK UP.

YOU'RE EXPLAINING SOMETHING TO YOUR FRIEND WITH NOBODY ELSE AROUND PLEASE JUST TALK NORMALLY.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Hello Noofle :)

Oh, good question! My favorite is

AW YEAH. HEAR THAT FELLAS? TIME TO REJOICE