sundxwnGullfoss in Winter Sun by Peter Negatsch


The winter sun is rising.

Releasing its stored energy.

Cracking the frozen ground wide open.

Creating a dark hole.

A hole reaching down

into emptiness.

No lights.

No sounds.

Only nothingness.

The sun feels good

on my face.

The snow feels less cold

and forbidding.

The light is calling me

away from the darkness.

I will listen to it.

I will go toward it.

Away from the gaping hole

and empty dreams.

To the light of a new day.

Good morning world.



A clearing in the woods.

A spot of light in the darkness.

Why is this clearing special?

Why does it have its own lamp?

What lives here?

Who lives here?

I can see mushrooms

and dead grass.

And holes in the ground.

What’s in these holes?

Let’s take a quick look.

This one looks deep.

I can see hands and feet.

They are moving.

They are attached

to dark figures,

who are staring up at me.

They have no faces.

Time to leave.

I feel a hard push.

I’m falling into the hole.

Hands are reaching for me.

The creatures are laughing.

Will I become one of them?

One of The Dead of Oasis?