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Weekly Contest #213
Trigger Warning: This story contains themes of suicide, self-harm, and animal death. Her digits cascaded down the ridges of the bark, and trailing behind the tips of her finger was a dark steel that made the once rich dark brown turn silver. Hazel eyes gazed at the iron ore as it strangled the tree until the warm wood was replaced with a cold metal mimic. She curled her arms around the now metallic tree. The ridges of the bark were still present, but the contrast between metal and wood could not be any clearer. Before, the wood had carried...
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