» Thu Nov 11, 2010 3:31 am It had been four years since the death of her husband, a whole four years! The solitude which had embodied itself in the widow slowly ate away at any happiness or cheer which she might possess, and left her nothing but a hollow shell. The only part of her husband that the widow had left was little Maria. She was only five, still learning this and that of the world, and oh how cruel it was!
The widow, on a cold winter day, decided to traverse the dark, empty labyrinth of streets that made up the affluent city of Skingrad. Upon her shoulders was a gloomy cloak, and her hair was hidden beneath a gray cap. As aforementioned, the widow was devoid of passion and love, but it was her little Maria that kept her on the brink of Sanity! The child was so much like her father, cheerful and nonchalant.
As the two walked through the snow-filled streets, the child played along, gathering snow and throwing it at the various birds who dared get in the vicinity of the little girl. The widow watched the child, and it seemed like the child was the antithesis of herself, and she questioned her.
“Child, from whom are thou?” The widow asked the child, who played in the snow.
“Silly mother, I am thy little Maria!” The young girl shouted back, her hands in the air. The words would of triggered the emotion of passion, but as I said before, the widow was long devoid of it. She gave off a false smile, to pacify the child of further inquiry of her somberness, and continued to walk alongside her daughter.
The city seemed like a dense forest, and the clouds was it’s canopy. Their blocking of the sun created the illusion that the sun did not shine on that day, but it seeped down, here and there, kissing the snow, creating twinkles of frozen crystals on the streets. The child ran toward the light, making acquaintance, and enticed the sunlight to play a game with her.
Maria was a smart child, and paid close attention to her surroundings.
“Mother, thy sunlight flocks from thou! Watch as I catch it, as it runs from you!” The child yelled, smiling at her mother. A partial ray of sunlight bathed the child, and the mother gave an empty smile.
“Maria, the sunlight does not flock from me! Thou art false, silly girl.” The mother said back, reaching out to the ray of sunlight that lapsed upon the girl’s shoulders. She reached for a handful of light, but as Maria had predicted, the light disappeared as if the clouds refused to give asylum to the widow.
Inquisitively, the little girl pointed to the roof of a domicile. The widow turned her head, to see what the little impish girl was pointing at. A shadowy figure sat upon the roof, almost invisible from the snow that had accumulated in the air.
The widow felt a stinging pain, and fell over. She looked upon her bosom: an arrow had implanted itself inside her heart. She did not expect it to bleed: for her heart had died out long ago…
She did not know for what cruel reason this happened, or why the gods frowned upon the her, but they did. And the little Maria, whom did not understand what happened, called out hopefully:
“Mom?”
