The sound of planes crashing to the ground and bombs going off in the distance filled the city. Buildings, chapels, and monuments were blown up, crumbling into piles of bricks and cinders. There were war tanks and cars engulfed in flames.
We had moved to our underground headquarter. I stood observing the masked soldiers crawling through the streets of Kremlin. The enemy had advanced past the gates into the capital at last.
"Where are the other soldiers?" I asked one of my generals.
"They're all dead, Your Highness. The remaining troops are also wounded. The army we have left is now defending our headquarter and the main bases."
I realized that we were failing in the battle. They outnumbered us by the thousands. Those rotten undead-Naz
I sat holding Valerina against my chest. Her face, white as the snow that had frozen my heart, no longer showed any sign of life. The sounds of exploding bombs reverberated all over the city, but all I felt was the coldness that seeped through every pore of my body. The coldness that would last longer than any winter in the world."Valerina," I whispered her name over and over as if it would wake her up and bring her back from this endless sleep.I knew she wouldn't hear it anymore. The hollowness in my chest spread like a black hole. The words were lost forever. We stayed in the same bed, but it felt as if we were a world apart.Another bomb struck the ground, shaking the building. Dust fell from the ceiling like snowflakes then the light went out. I tightened my hold around the lifel
The nature of sorrow often fades over time, but once in a while it remains lodged below the surface of things, a stubborn thorn under a fingertip, making itself felt every time you brush against it.The years galloped past, flowing onward like the waters of a river, disappearing never to return, on this day, it had been three or maybe five years. I did not keep track of time anymore. But the beauty of the bright spring sunshine, rejoiced with blossoms and the song of birds, brought nostalgia to my heart.I brushed another paint stroke against the canvas. Purple was my favorite color, but now I had grown to love red. Red was vibrant and strong. Red was the color of blood and life.In the garden under the spring sun, the portrait was taking shape, a beautiful shape of a woman I loved and