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Novnarwen · 11-07-2004, 09:27 AM

Ingemar

Impatiently, Ingemar waited for his cottage to reappear. He tapped his foot on the snow, folded his hands and started humming to himself. He did whatever he could to entertain himself, but it was starting to become harder and harder as the coldness of the early evening was depriving him for all the warmth he still had left in his body. He waited and waited. Unfortunately, he was waiting in vain. But he did not know it.

His body grew tense, as he was putting too much effort into staying warm. His face expression now bore the feature of a grim and helpless, child. His deep grey eyes were lit with anxiety, as he came to realise that his cottage wouldn’t come back. But where could it possible have gone? He thought to himself. Why would it leave him? He frowned, tapped his brow with his numb finger, as he had seen his sister do when thinking. He was shivering wildly, his whole body trembling. His body was out of control, and he could do nothing to stop it. He was numb and stiff, cold and tired. What was happening to him? he wondered, starting to get frightened. Suddenly a thought hit him. He would have to go look for his cottage. Yes, he knew what it was doing. It was waiting to be found. He laughed merrily. He’d often played this game with his sister. She, or he, would go hide and then the other would try to find the one missing. “Find… Find!” he called, and forced himself to move. After having been still for so long, he could only make himself halt slowly, quickening his pace as soon as the blood was running normally through his veins again. He could no longer feel his toes, but it was a rather exciting feeling, or so Ingemar thought.

He made his way towards the woods, thinking that his cottage was probably hiding behind a tree. Maybe he could climb one, a tall one, and look for it from a branch high up in the air. This thought seemed to have an encouraging effect on the middle-aged man who smiled happily and sprang as fast as he could.

As the tall trees, and their shadows, closed about him, the darkness prevented him from seeing much. Being both beguiled and scared by this, at the same time having lost his way, he leaned his back to a tree trunk and sat down. The wind whistled, making the branches move threateningly over his head. He looked up, perplexed by the dim figures of monsters in the trees. They were moving, and they were many! He felt his eyes exploding, and tears started running down his frozen face. He cried helplessly and he covered eyes with his hands; they were swollen and blue, and he was able to feel them anymore. He did not understand . . .

11-07-2004, 09:27 AM	#21
Novnarwen Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Apr 2003 Location: In your mouth... Eeeew, by the way. :P Posts: 517	Alone in the snow Ingemar Impatiently, Ingemar waited for his cottage to reappear. He tapped his foot on the snow, folded his hands and started humming to himself. He did whatever he could to entertain himself, but it was starting to become harder and harder as the coldness of the early evening was depriving him for all the warmth he still had left in his body. He waited and waited. Unfortunately, he was waiting in vain. But he did not know it. His body grew tense, as he was putting too much effort into staying warm. His face expression now bore the feature of a grim and helpless, child. His deep grey eyes were lit with anxiety, as he came to realise that his cottage wouldn’t come back. But where could it possible have gone? He thought to himself. Why would it leave him? He frowned, tapped his brow with his numb finger, as he had seen his sister do when thinking. He was shivering wildly, his whole body trembling. His body was out of control, and he could do nothing to stop it. He was numb and stiff, cold and tired. What was happening to him? he wondered, starting to get frightened. Suddenly a thought hit him. He would have to go look for his cottage. Yes, he knew what it was doing. It was waiting to be found. He laughed merrily. He’d often played this game with his sister. She, or he, would go hide and then the other would try to find the one missing. “Find… Find!” he called, and forced himself to move. After having been still for so long, he could only make himself halt slowly, quickening his pace as soon as the blood was running normally through his veins again. He could no longer feel his toes, but it was a rather exciting feeling, or so Ingemar thought. He made his way towards the woods, thinking that his cottage was probably hiding behind a tree. Maybe he could climb one, a tall one, and look for it from a branch high up in the air. This thought seemed to have an encouraging effect on the middle-aged man who smiled happily and sprang as fast as he could. As the tall trees, and their shadows, closed about him, the darkness prevented him from seeing much. Being both beguiled and scared by this, at the same time having lost his way, he leaned his back to a tree trunk and sat down. The wind whistled, making the branches move threateningly over his head. He looked up, perplexed by the dim figures of monsters in the trees. They were moving, and they were many! He felt his eyes exploding, and tears started running down his frozen face. He cried helplessly and he covered eyes with his hands; they were swollen and blue, and he was able to feel them anymore. He did not understand . . .