White moves in a fast motion looking for color to give it some sort of feeling, but despises the color black.
White all around.
The taste of a loud snarly howl tastes of melted candy.
Wolves shatter the silence.
Soon a soft, smooth whisper that looks like a huge bailer piling down on sheets of metal screeching together.
It’s cold and the silence starts again.
Spooky mischief smells like sweet cinnamon mixed with warm sugar.
There’s somebody disturbing the peace, destructing one’s land.
The white sky feels like soft frustration.
The suspicion grows larger, there’s a missing body and somebody’s to blame, here is the perfect place to hide.
The blood on the hatchet sounds like birds chirping in the early morning light.
This mystery may never be solved, nobody will look here.
The snow moves in a fast motion, falling down, covering anything in sight, covering anything of color.