hello @passerbyfujofromspace here! just sharing with y'all one of the new stuff I wrote this week coz it came out pretty well (at least for me). p.s honestly not sure if this is even a short story or a poem, it's kinda more like a poetic narrative. Decorative Handkerchief @passerbyfujofromspace Along the silent woods where only the sound of the listless leaves falling could be heard, There lies a mansion large and tall that stood amidst the forest deep in isolation. Inside that lonely desolate space not a single noise could be perceived, But only the wails of many wild flowers that are slowly creeping in, struggling to climb the walls and the tiny cracks from the mossy and faded scarlet-tainted bricks. Little did everybody know, that beneath the surface of that seemingly old abode was the ongoing life of a mysterious lady. That woman was not delicate nor was she fragile, she didn't need to wait for her saviour to come fetch her, for her to wake in this phantasm. She had long been living in this calming world of hers from her birth until this day─ Not that she never wanted to go on an adventure to witness the countless wonderful things in the world, However she thought it was just too much of a struggle to work hard for when she was not that interested in those little sceneries along the way. If she did wanted to see them albeit she could just read through the books, and find countless stories printed in paper, just like all those tell-tales she'll find outside the society. Unfazed by the weather and even her own rarely coming blues, she continues to dye the little cosmic galaxy inside her room with her brilliance and innocent nuances. From time to time she sat by the windowsills and the cold floors, not minding wether it is winter or summer, still fiddling with the needles and fabric she got from someone she once knew. Painting an image through a picturesque of embroidery filled with sophistication and elegance from every stitches, Just as how she felt how meaningful and significant all the moments she have spent even when idling around. Comparing herself to an embroidered silk handkerchief, she knew that the path she is walking today isn't so bright. Once the colour of the threaded flowers fade as well as the vibrant stitches get leisurely tangled, the handkerchief would loose it's beauty. Her life could be said to be something plain without a certain amount of the things she always did wether as obligatory responsibilities or as for the sake of her own entertainment. Still no matter how dark or shimmering would her life may be in the present she didn't think it would've been all that better either to have a life that's different from the one she now possessed. As how her belief then goes, even as when many centuries would pass by with one's hair slowly becoming stained in gray, Together with the vanishing shades of gleam she meticulously breached in her embroidery, She would still be beautiful and precious as the memories she carried are all irreplaceable treasures. Even if she just lived languid and not facing the claims of the universe, as it was the life she chose to live. ─the life of a decorative handkerchief, still lovely and who's value was worthy of her existence, even when the shades of red slowly become white. fin