Pitgorm: A Short Story

The lake darkens as the ominous clouds race across the sky, as black as the devil’s soul, and swallows the bliss-blue complexion of the sky faster than you can blink. The world has abruptly become cellar-dark and the heavens above look to collapse down upon me. A deafening wind runs over the landscape like a thousand horses, the noise of the raindrops their clattering hoofs. The threatening force of the gales knocks and blows the trees in precarious ways, almost as though, if it had wanted to, the wind could blow them away as if they were but feathers, not heavy pines. Lighting lights up the sky like liquid, golden ore streaks being forged into forks up above. Wriggling and writhing with the pain of their own existence. Flashing once, twice, three times, polished and glossy like the cold prongs of the apocalypse. Shaking myself from my weather-caused trance, I hurry for shelter under a nearby fern tree. Staring deep into the blackness of the storm I wonder whether I will ever see that bliss-blue appearance

the misty moors; nobody knows where these reavers from hell roam on their errands” (British

“The escarpments above camp were draped with hanging glacier, from which calved immense ice avalanches that thundered down… The Khumbu Icefall spilled through a narrow gap in a chaos of frozen shards. The amphitheater opened to the southwest, so it was flooded with sunlight; on clear afternoons when there was no wind,” (Krakauer 63).

The sun began its descent into the west. Beams of light scattered amongst the large pines covering the countryside. It was a perfect day for hunting, but as the day neared its end the northern chill began to creep in. Sapphire Blackwulf sat atop her wooden cart as she wheeled it through the gates of Narsis, she had her head held high, not able to hold back her sense of accomplishment that seemed to emanate from her. She relished with pride from the two elk bucks that lay motionless in the back of her cart; the evidence of her successful hunt. From her seat, Sapphire noticed the occasional lingering eyes of the townsfolk, but she could not tell if it was in mild fascination, or something else entirely. What she was certain of however, was when woman of the Dohl brought

This chapter’’Wasichus in the Hill’’ protrudes signs of envisioned trouble the people of Soux tribe would encounter. It is also one of the longest chapters of the entire book that unveils the subversion of the Sioux tribe for mineral resources (Gold) by the opposed extremists. Superficially, Black Elk had thought he was set to manifest his vision from the grandfathers of the cloud, when he attained the age of eleven, in the summer 1874. The black elk’s band had camped on sphitton creek in the black hill.

Outcroppings of Pine and Birch shifted in the unrelenting wind as if they were the scales on the bodies of primordial dragons attempting to settle their massive forms into the damp ground beneath them. An endless horizon of white edged waves bit at the tails of one another in a crashing cacophony until they foamed, frothed and broke against the shore.

Moving swiftly through the trees, Cobyn followed a mental map he had of the surrounding area.  He and his family had traveled from the Marshlands before. It had been the place he had been born. The Unknown had driven them out though, leaving their city to burn. Cobyn's infant sister, Aleen. Aleen, had been lost that day, as had so many other Keddish people.  The moon shone down from above, like a silver sun lighting his path. Creatures moved, fast and flitting through the trees as Cobyn walked, keeping a quick pace. He could hear the crunching of the leaves under his bare feet, and occasionally the moonlight would catch the hilt of the sword making it shine. Cobyn hurried. The armies would not clash for many days, having

The storm had passed. Norval Gilmer careened the air cab to skim along the craggy mountain range past the Terra borough’s greenhouses in the south. Since he studied geology at Gnaritus University, he enthusiastically drew Surina’s attention to the unusual topography in the picturesque hinterland on the way to Algonquin Beach. Through the sunroof of the air cab, she glimpsed the congregation of the three suns, Spes’ rings, Fiducia, and Clementia in the endless turquoise sky. Suddenly, as they moved further south, the jaw-dropping view of the rainbow mountain materialized with its dazzling stripes of gold, black, green, orange, red, blue, and purple. Moreover, a soft alpenglow shrouded the snowy peaks.

The storm had passed. Norval Gilmer careened the air cab to skim along the craggy mountain range past the Terra borough’s greenhouses in the south. Since he studied geology at Gnaritus University, he enthusiastically drew Surina’s attention to the unusual topography in the picturesque hinterland on the way to Algonquin Beach. Through the sunroof of the air cab, she glimpsed the congregation of the three suns, Spes’ rings, Fiducia, and Clementia in the endless turquoise sky. Suddenly, as they moved further south, the jaw-dropping view of the rainbow mountain materialized with its dazzling stripes of gold, black, green, orange, red, blue, and purple. Moreover, a soft alpenglow shrouded the snowy peaks.

“The Hound! After all the running and rushing and sweating it out and half drowning, to come this far, work this hard, and think yourself safe and sigh with relief and come out on the land at last only to find… The Hound! Montag gave on last agonized shout as if this were too much for any man. The shape exploded away. The eyes vanished. The leaf piles flew up in a dry shower. Montag was alone in the wilderness. A deer. He smelled the heavy musk like perfume mingled with blood and the gummed exhalation of the animal’s breath, all cardamom and moss and ragweed odor in this huge night where the trees ran at him, pulled away, ran, pulled away, to the pulse of the heart behind his eyes.

The water, in her fiery glory, began her journey through the furrows and rivets that the forest floor had bestowed upon itself. Past the river and past the bramble- the water continued to flow. The sky never ceased her crying, only allowing

In a thousand spots the traces of the winter avalanche may be perceived, where trees lie broken and strewed on the ground; some entirely destroyed, others bent, leaning upon the rocks of the mountain or transversely upon other trees. The path, as you ascend higher, is intersected by ravines of the

It was a warm, breezy summer morning in Tennessee, 1838. Under the cool shade of the trees was a village of a tribe called the Cherokees. Their houses had wooden walls made of cut up logs, their roofs were made of wood bark. Chea Sequa. Chief of the Wolf Clan village, stood tall and strong with long hair as dark as the middle of a sunflower (where the seeds are held through the long summers). His eyes were brown like the rich brown earth (that was used for farming). Amadahy (the Chiefs’ wife) stood confident, she had hair as dark as the midnight sky, and she had the powerful eyes that belonged to a wife and a mother of a young daughter. Adsila the chiefs daughter who is now 8 summers (years) old stood confident like her mother, but had the

On a frigid late February afternoon, our optimistic biology teacher took us on a hike to Tettegouche State Park in Northern Minnesota. We hiked on freshly snow covered trails that lead us to the breathtaking view of a frosted waterfall. The sky threatened to pour snow over top of us as we made a trek across the frozen water. Footsteps found in the snow from where fifteen people had walked. The waterfall is like something you would find on the front cover of the National Geographic

On land, pillars of granite rose up angelically into the ether. The once grey sky was slowly being permeated with an onyx decor. Though we had started our journey with blue skies, it was becoming increasingly sincere that we would conclude it in storm.