Supernova emotions stories

pixels Howdy nerds. I like to write.
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
The night can be more beautiful, more brilliant, once you get to know it.


She glittered like a million stars, thousands of twinkling lights.

She walked as if the universe belonged to her; Like she was as beautiful as the moon, a soothing silver crescent on an ebony canvas. In her absence, the night was empty. Dark. Dead.

A silent, clouded swirl of grim fog and mist, perfect tendrils sweeping the sky like a fallen angel's fingers. Nothing was the same, and it seemed like it could never be.

But when she was around, everything was light, to a point where it was almost blinding. Burning; Beautiful; Brilliant.

The sky would glitter with her purity, like piles upon piles of glistening diamonds. And she would sing a song; Her song.

A song of the pitched night, with hooted owls' melodies and a symphony of blissful crickets. A song with a beat of fireflies, just out of reach, imitating the singer, the conductress, herself.

A song with all the emotions of a cool, dying rainstorm; A song of a faint memory, forgotten eons ago. She was an emotion, an abstract thought of fantasy. She was a supernova.

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