The Forest That Grew Backwards
Decay and birth share the same soil.
In a hidden valley, trees shrank into seeds every winter. The locals called it dying. The forest called it remembering.
About the Creator
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Immortal Hate, Chapter One
It was the time-interval when a space-conurbation’s artificial sky stained everything beneath with its luridness. After the moisture-purge, the last of the atmospheric condensation roiled overhead in vast formations of mustard and sulphur. By now it was too late in the diurnal round to think of regaining simulated day. Elongated polygons of light were already spilling from shopfronts and windows, etching their pattern on streets darkening and damp. At the far end of one, a small nightclub stood.
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Here's something you often hear people say, "I try not to get too political." I understand the sentiment and I sympathize with it... while at the same exact time, I completely disagree with the notion. Whether it's referring to social media or wherever, it's kind of unavoidable. You can attempt to sidestep it, not engage, leave the less important things for actual politicians to discuss... you can want it to not take over your life, your conversations, your relationships, and that makes perfect sense.
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