Alex Brown-Irwin
Joined February 2018
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A Flower Made of Snowflakes
The Initiate heard his master’s voice as he sat, and he wasn’t sure if it was in his mind or his master was somewhere near by, hidden by the blackness of night. The snow had been steadily falling for days, covering him in a frigid sheet of white, and it was all he could do to keep from being consumed by the cold entirely. Occasionally, his body would convulse violently, spasming the excess snow off, only to have it replaced a few minutes later.
By Alex Brown-Irwin6 years ago in Futurism