Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover’s kisses, and melted on her cheeks. At the center of the garden, beside the statue of the weeping woman that lay broken and half-buried on the ground, she turned her face up to the sky and closed her eyes. She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams.
Everyone has a certain part in their lives where they truly wish they could just freeze time. Whether it was three years ago, today, or still to come. Whether it was just a moment, a whole day, or a whole summer. Everyone has a time in their life when they wish everything would just stop. The world would stop turning and people would stop changing because to them, at that time, everything was perfect.
Who will save me from existence? It isn’t death that I want, or life: it’s the other thing that shines at the bottom of all longing like a possible diamond in a cave one cannot reach.