Saturday, December 3, 2011

Short #4: Hell

The woman of sadness, her mask a shadow of sorrow, spoke softly as she glided into Hell: “the fire here stings, searing flesh and charring bone. The ice at the bottom fills one with millennia of pain, loss, and the brooding of revenge.” Painted red like the flowing blood below, she plummeted down, down, and to that glassy frozen lake.

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