{Originally written in 2019.}
Afanas slowly paced across a desolate moor in Romania.
The wind blew through-—chilling him to the bone and freezing his blood. A somber, grim feeling filled the air.
Afanas tried to wrap his head around what he had just seen.
He had just seen his friends murdered right before his eyes.
Afanas, himself, had barely the time to escape with his life. He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair.
His clothes were now tattered. And his face was lined with dirt and dried blood.
Afanas had told himself that he wasn’t safe yet. And that he could not mourn his friends’ deaths. But, he choked out a name, “…Logan.” His cry was buried in sobs.
Logan had been an immigrant from the United Kingdom-—and by far, Afanas’s closest friend.
One lone tear for Logan slipped down Afanas’s pale face but dissipated in the wind.
YOU ARE READING
Shiver
Poetryꜱʜɪᴠ·ᴇʀ /ˈꜱʜɪᴠƏʀ/ ᴠᴇʀʙ (ᴏꜰ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ᴏʀ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟ) ꜱʜᴀᴋᴇ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜɴᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟʟᴀʙʟʏ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ʀᴇꜱᴜʟᴛ ᴏꜰ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴏʟᴅ, ꜰʀɪɢʜᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴇxᴄɪᴛᴇᴅ. -- Short stories and poetry that heavily revolve around grief, death, and mental illness.
