The Dance
The winds howled and wailed like gathering of ghosts eerily shouting through the pines. I felt numb. The world around me wouldn’t stop spinning as I was pushed to and fro akin to a ragdoll, the icy air thickening around me and crystallizing on my leathery skin. It made my tips go as white as the sheets on the washing line beneath me.
It wasen’t long until I felt myself slowly pulling away from my tree, like a newborn child being ripped from its mother. I wanted to cry but no sounds came out of my lungs, my eyes already glazing over with frost.
A frantic women came out of the house across from me, sprinting up to the washing line as her red hair, whipped around like burning embers around her head in the powerful breeze. She ripped the clothes from the line and dumped them in the bucket nearby, cursing under her breath.
SNAP.
I felt myself detach from the tree. My path was that of a drunken waltz as the wind carried me towards the ground, unpredictable and fast. I shouted out to the women. No reply.