Phone Drabbles

As I mentioned in my First Love post, I write on my phone when I'm bored. Seeing that most of them don't particularly lead to any stories I write, so I thought I should post them. (C) Eve Patchett 2014

Ahem, This was me getting philosophical again.
What is time but a measure of lie? What is life but a measure of existence? What is existence but a speck on the history of the world?
Yeah, don't let me get philosophical, it's not a good idea

This next one I started writing after seeing this play with my sister and her boyfriend and a couple of their friends (I actually met one of the actors and the writer afterwards, so cool!)

The wood was dark, and the snow was deep.And the boy? The boy was lost.

What was lost, though, he pondered while meandering through the snow, his footsteps disappearing mere moments after they were even made.

And he was cold, the snow clinging to the thin cotton of his clothes. He knew what cold was; he knew all too well the sensation of snow melting against his skin, of it trickling down his back. He hadn't known cold before he entered that place; or at least, he didn't think he had.

The woods grew steadily darker, and the snow steadily deeper. And the boy; the boy remained lost and cold.

Creatures appeared in the dark, leering down at him as they emerged from the shadows.The boy felt ... fear. He was fearful, and somehow, watching these creatures, he couldn't understand how he wasn't always afraid, not now that he knew how close these monsters always were.

The boy was tired, too. every step seemed even more leaden than the last.

And that's where it stops, probably because there's only 48 characters left (in my notepad on my phone, you can write up to 1000 characters). But I saw that show at the beginning of January, started writing the same night, and have added to it every so often since! :)

This last one I wrote in 501 characters when we got our first snow this last Tuesday (finally!)

As the snow flurried past in a tempest of white, she wondered what it would be like to be snow. They say every snowflake has its own unique pattern; she wondered whether the other snowflakes would taunt you as humans do for being different, or if the flakes had realised that each was different to another, and that it was pointless to call each other out on it in their short lifetime when their only similarity was their differences.

Oh yes, she thought, life would be better as a snowflake.

And that's about it for my phone drabbles! No stealing please!!! Love you guys! <3