The stark beauty of the oak’s bare limbs, silhouetted against the metallic blue December sky, caught Darcy’s attention. From a distance, each branch, a variant shade of gray, appeared interwoven with another, creating an intricate pattern that suggested strength.
But Darcy knew different. A single, thin branch, stripped of it leaves and laid against the bare limb of a little girl, was strong enough, on its own, to leave a painful, red welt. And a memory that scarred for a lifetime.
2 comments:
Very good description,then dramatic switch really gets your attention. Is this the beginning of a story you're working on? You have a misspelling- after creating, it should be "an" instead of "a." Good work!
I am not sure what this is .... yet.
Thanks for reading and commenting.
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