– Can you feel it, girl?
– What do mean, Mrs. Cyclamen? asked the girl.
– The wind from the North. Its cool sharpness is announcing that the winter is coming to our land. When you feel that kind of wind, you know it is time.
– I don’t understand, Mrs. Cyclamen. Time for what? asked the girl.
It was the first time she heard and felt the North wind so she didn’t know the message which was blowing around her little head.
– It is time for us to say goodbye to this beautiful forest we call home. Because the winter will come and our bodies will slowly freeze and die. Our violet cyclamen colored hair will become darker, our leg weaker and one morning we just won’t wake up. The wind will cover us with the fallen tree leaves before the soft snowflakes will get the chance to do so.
– But what about our souls? the girl quietly asked one more question.
– Don’t worry, darling. Our souls will not die. They will wait. Patiently. Until the sun will heat the coldness of the winter wind and turn it into a warm spring breeze. Then, our hearts and souls will become alive, our beautiful bodies will resurrect, and we will look and smell like Cyclamen, again.
Katarina Alič Čretnik
Author of all STORIES @C4YC.com
After 10 years of working as an online journalist, blogger, content writer, and social media editor in various marketing teams and personal projects, writing became my true passion. It helps me put my mind in order, it enables me to share different information with my readers, and it lets my imagination run free. These short stories should tell you about my writing passion.