A Story in Six Sentences

Walking through the thick forest, cold fog curling up under my fingernails and settling under my bones, I approach a wooden bridge. A red coat hugs a dark-haired girl as she balances delicately on the railing, her arms outstretched as if she's waiting to fly. Miles below, liquid ice flows quickly, lapping against the jagged stones with fierce malice. I say nothing as she advances, wobbling slightly while wind slaps her cheeks. I am silent when she jumps -- something similar to falling but with less ease -- and my scream only catches up with me when her bones let out an echoing crack through the deep canyon. Water washes over her, stealing red from her blood and coat, painting her canvas new again.