In this
winter wonderland, the ice neither sparkles nor shines, because the name
“wonderland” would be too nice a word to describe the situation. The
unrelenting ice overpowers everything, covering even the slightest patch with
its frosty glaze. The once carefree swing has been made unmovable by the
overbearing power of the ice which has locked it to the ground. The ice is like
a timekeeper, freezing everything in its path, unable to proceed, while also
slowing down the process of aging. The swing, trapped in such a state, can no
longer sway freely with the wind, yet it stands motionless, waiting. Taking
away a swings freedom of motion, is like taking away the ability to breathe
from the living, as the inability to move defeats the sole purpose of its
existence.
The ice
forms intricate and interesting patterns on the beams of wood, as if mocking
the swing, flaunting its natural charm and skill. The raw ice bites into the
wood, laughing at the swings inability to defend itself from the consequences
of winter. Stripped of its ability to retaliate it just silently waits for the
passing of the winter months, waiting for the time where it may return to its
former glory.
-By Cindy
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