Horror flash fiction
‘The snowman’ by Stewart storrar
The wind chilled me to the bone and the sky was a haunting shade of charcoal. So when my eyes met it, and the surge of pity fluttered through my heart, it warmed my very soul with a viscus empathy. The aura of the place and sight was a strange euphoria I had never known in a sea of depression I’d uniquely owned.
It was easy to attribute this pity and empathy to the sight of the snowman.
My world came crashing down around me, my choking thoughts, my crushing emotions, and the intended action that took me to that frozen lake on that fateful day. It all collapsed into an abyss during that moment of forgotten memories. The simplicity of its fleeting existence captured my reality in a sacred bond between who I seemed and who I was.
Its solemn look.
Its limited existence.
Its slither of time.
Finding the snowman gave me something I never thought I could find; something I had lost for what felt like aeons. I looked to the snowman and thought one simple thought that shattered what I had become.
Why are you sad?
In its childish simplicity the question warped my life, now teetering in the balance, into perspective. In that sense I see now what nobody could show me and what the world had been hiding from me.
I saw it in the snowman, and then I saw it in myself. That was the day the call to the void stopped and the call of life resonated with everything I had been, towards everything I was going to be.
About this horror flash fiction
This horror flash fiction was writing by Scottish writer Stewart Storrar. Stewart wrote this flash fiction after coming across a particularly sad looking snowman one day during the Glasgow winter of 2019.
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