Fragile Shard 4. Writer.

Tim Nakhapetov
3 min readDec 25, 2023

Something is happening — he is acutely aware of it. It all occurs when the sun descends, scorching the tops of centuries-old fir trees with scarlet, and a gray, dense, sticky fog begins to rise from the lowlands in wisps. He doesn’t know precisely what, but it feels immensely significant to anyone who understands the peculiar occurrences and the enigmatic events that unfold at the juncture of day and night.

And there he sits, donning his foolish hat (as his girlfriend once remarked about it), draped in a warm raincoat, and waits. The locals assured him that this was an excellent spot for observation, but he remained restless — what if they deceived him? These inhabitants of remote villages can be mischievous. They take delight in mocking naive foreigners. But does it matter? After all, back in his hometown many years ago, he earned the nickname “Writer” — not because he wrote exceptionally well (although, in truth, he did write quite proficiently), but because he was insatiably curious and peculiar. He’d observe everything, ask questions, and stick his nose where it didn’t belong.

And now, the Writer sits in a damp ravine, shivering slightly from the clammy cold fog, and he waits. How many such villages, ravines, and forests has he visited recently? Countless. Everywhere he went, he was promised “unprecedented miracles,” “dark magic,” and sometimes even “the true devil.” And what did he encounter in reality? A couple of half-asleep vampires, the occasional banshee or forest spirit — and only on festive occasions. More often than not, wild boars and elks wandered the paths, and the superstitious locals mistook them for evil spirits. But there was undoubtedly something intriguing, something genuine that he sensed. It was the very thing he had been searching for all these years — something he longed to witness, understand, and then, if possible, describe.

As the sun begins to set behind the treetops, casting its final bright ray before plunging into the gray twilight, the fog stirs — it feels like its moment has arrived. Nothing else restrains it in the deep lowlands.

Darkness descends swiftly, accompanied by a biting chill. But there isn’t much time left to wait.

Indeed — amidst the swirling fog, he spots the outlines. Something emerges from the ground, something incredibly massive.

“Seems like it’s truly a celebration today,” he whispers quietly to himself, utterly captivated as he observes the colossal figure ascending higher and higher.

You can listen to the audio version of this story on podcast platforms:

“Fragile Shards: Whispers of Transience” is an evocative anthology that spans 15 years of the author’s writing journey. From mystical adventures to dark introspections, these tales traverse vivid landscapes, offering a captivating glimpse into the ever-changing tapestry of human emotions and perceptions. Each story is a unique shard, reflecting the complexity of life’s experiences and the resilience of hope.

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Tim Nakhapetov
Tim Nakhapetov

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