The Valley

365 Days of Creativity

day eighty five

The Valley

They come here and fall in love. The sweet young things, swept away by the sun and the sands and the cool dollar signs. Here their youth seems justified, matched and rewarded with the vitality of the lake and the immortality of the sky. Cradled on all sides by mountains and swathed in the blanket of summertime, these girls, these tight bodies and bountiful smiles, they are swallowed here, in the valley.

As they fall through Autumn, memories of the months before blur the descent. The trip is drowned out by a sweet cacophony of downy brown leaves stirred by crisp winds which freeze the dedicatedly bare legs. 

Too distracted are they to notice that Summer has left without them. Dead is the season of their content, and with a wakening thud these buxom beauties land to spend Winter in the belly of the beast. Living, no, surviving year after year. Each passing Winter steals a little more of their youth, and a lot more of their happiness until they are left as icy and bitter as the season itself.

What of Spring? you ask, ah that inspiring time when Lady Earth blossoms into a Mother. Her children sing songs of glacier dew in morning-piercing melodies. That triple time, three months in a row, hopping lightly along with a tip-tip-tip toe. A command of movement given to two young lasses like "March, April May!" The wonder of which is not wasted on this pit of sagging skin and menthol cigarettes. No, springtime is welcomed, for it in turn welcomes the arrival of new slender does, budding with breasts and flowering while they still have a rose to grow. 

Cradled and cooed at then cat-called and crowded, quickly captured and caught up by vultures and hounds. Handsome purebreds though aged, their wallets are plump, and fat appetites are starving for fresh little cunts. See what song has been made by such a morbid routine? The murder of youth by the promise of green. Say goodbye to your soft skin, and goodbye to your dreams, for it's here they are swallowed by the valley, The Queen.