The Nymph and the Sun by Anastasia Paliy

Somewhere deep in a forest,

where a man never stepped their feet unless they were seeking for something they themselves didn’t know what for, a young nymph was laying on the river shore. 

Everything around her was in blossom. The Sun was admiring the nymph. It was shining bright caressing her with its raises while she was rolling from side to side in the soft grass and the ground was blooming with pastel pink-blue flowers under her. The water in the river remained calm, it was transparently blue mirroring the blue of the serene sky. Clouds were pastel pink and cutely shaped as big cotton candy hearts. The birds were singing her favorite romantic songs. The nymph was waiting for her date. 

She waited and waited, but the date was being late and with the time passing the nymph was getting tired of waiting. As the Sun was moving dully from east to west, the flowers under her started mixing their colors and darkening, turning from pastel blue-pink to dark violet. The river’s water was becoming muddier from the little waves that were appearing gradually from more forceful wind. The sky became heavier and filled with clouds which now reminded more of purple shreds of something impossible to identify. The birds’ songs were getting less melodic and rather alarming.

All of a sudden a heavy rainstorm started. The flowers became almost black. The cold wind made waters storm. The Sun was completely covered with the clouds. You couldn’t see or hear the birds anymore, they all hunched down from mother nature’s trustees.

It rained and rained until the Sun finally managed to fight its way to her and put its raise at her. The nymph looked at the Sun, then grabbed it by the raise and the Sun lifted her up. She realized with the Sun she feels loved and cared for, and that it’s nothing like the way her date made her feel. Finally she started to notice it.

The clouds went away. The colors around brightened up. The birds came out of their hideouts. The mother nature was gay again.