All Posts By

Alessandra Arif

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Journey of the Daffodil

Yellow Daffodils

I was born from a man enamored with his reflection, who, when looking into the clear, translucent water of a pond, fell in and drowned. A nymph had loved him, her soul the soft Echo of sweetness. Yet in his pride he rebuffed her affections. Revenge befell him, and in turn he, too, fell. My …


Rose Garden

The trees sighed a silent warning, and the leaves rustled in alarm. A man approached a garden which did not belong to him. His gait was steady, smooth, nonchalant. Upon his face danced a predatory smirk, and his eyes were colder than the frigid winter air. It had not snowed yet, despite it being late …