Prologue
The trees look strange at night. Unfamiliar dark shapes, like black remnants of creatures frozen in place at the time of their sudden, collective death. Nothing moves, not a branch, not a leaf. The quiet stillness scares her. It’s like she’s been dropped into the surreal surroundings of a painting. The only living, breathing thing
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Comments 1
The development of Carla's notions until her determination to put the cold-hearted mask everyone accuses her of to good use is logical and detailed.
Some beautiful metaphors: "...the heavy silence that has settled down on her shoulders, wrapping her in its cocoon of quiet stillness."
"...someone who wraps her words in candy cotton to lessen the force of the blow."
"She lets the cold take over."
If anybody would care for bad (german) soaps and their english-written fics, you certainly would have a lot mor comments.
Guess I'm just a nerd for liking exactly that;)
Keep them coming.
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