flash fiction

Last Winter



Last Winter


"When loneliness calls, emptiness falls like a warm blanket over your cold thoughts."

—Vincent


I shut the door to my home as I sink down into my own nothingness. 

"Emptiness never just comes to your home; it brings its friend loneliness and leaves the two of you alone. Winter will nest inside your soul. The sun will vanish. Fiery hate will be the only thing keeping you warm; it'll burn holes in your faith, in all that you crave and love, until it is far too late." 

As I managed to stumble to my kitchen to pour myself some tea, I noticed that I was talking to myself again, and the tea turned cold. 

"If you hang on, you'll see that the fire will not burn. If you hang on, you'll realize that you're here to learn. Hang on, until the little birds start singing and innocently declare to us that spring is coming. The wheel is turning. It lures the loneliness away. After caging you for what seemed to be forever, summer is on its way, to once again bring heat to the heart and to the mind, to guide the blind. It teaches the legless to walk and the speechless to talk. Nevertheless, she won't last forever. Summer is a temporary show." 

As I walk inside the outside world, I feel a million eyes staring me down. 

"A few quick lessons to watch and learn before winter sets in once again with its illusionary burn. But now you will see the cycle, the wheel that's in spin. Ghosts that are among you, they belong inside the bin." 

It's getting colder, slowly but surely.

"Hope is the last thing to die, and the first thing on the mind. Legless flying. Screaming blind." 

As I shut my door once again, I grab my "loneliness blanket" and crawl back into bed. 

This time, winter will not die. The lessons learned will remain between myself and I.

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Vincent van Zandvoort
Vincent van Zandvoort

Vincent van Zandvoort is a writer of Poetry, Inspirational Words, Prose & Short Fiction. Science Fiction - Fantasy - Supernatural - Thriller


Flash Fiction
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