cross ❌ stitch pattern

cross ❌ stitch pattern

Cross ❌ stitch pattern

cross ❌ stitch pattern

Cottage

The forest was a dark place, an impenetrable land, and she couldn't know what awaited her once she entered. But she had to walk this section of the path, just like all the others. There was no turning back; she was in a hurry. The path she was following disappeared a few meters ahead, slowing slightly as she passed the first trees. They seemed alive. Beautiful, enormous pines stood silently, watching her steps in the darkness. She knew this path and was almost certain she could manage; it wasn't far, after all. But she had never walked this way at night without a flashlight. Every step was a risk; she couldn't see anything, and there might be a root in the way, she might get lost. Was she even sticking to the path? All she could hear was the gentle rustle of the upper leaves of the birch trees growing here and her own restless breathing. With her hands stretched out in front of her, she tried to touch the air in front of her, trying to see the path. But she couldn't. She touched something and stopped, her heart pounding. But after a moment, she realized it was a tree trunk, just rough bark and that familiar smell. She left the path. Which way should she go now? I'll go left, she thought. She walked slower, so as not to get lost, but unfortunately, she touched the tree again. I'll be late, no, I can't be late, she thought, growing increasingly nervous. She sped up a little, this time veering slightly to the right. She walked for a minute without touching anything. As long as I walk this path during the day, ten minutes at most, I have to succeed, I can't get lost now. It's so important, I can feel what's happening to my body. She touched something, but it wasn't the tree trunk. She almost screamed in terror. She pulled her hands away and curled into herself. She heard nothing new, the silence punctured by the rustling of trees and the hooting of a tawny owl, her own breathing, and nothing else. But what was it, what she touched, something at arm's length. She slowly raised her hand and touched something flat, cold, and alien in this place. I must have gotten very lost; it must be a wall. Touching the wall, she went left. When she reached the end, she turned and continued walking until she came to a doorframe and a door. Where am I, what is this place? She opened the door and went inside. In the darkness, she crossed the room and found a table with a candle and matches on it. She lit a candle and was about to leave when she felt a contraction combined with pain. Only this time the pain was so intense that she lost her breath. After a moment that felt like an eternity, the contraction passed. She took the candle outside, but she hadn't gone far before the flame went out. I have to go back for the matches, she thought. The next contraction was stronger than the last. She knelt down and breathed rapidly to ease the pain, but nothing helped. When it ended, she stood up and groped her way back to the cottage in the middle of the forest. Before she could find the table, however, she fell to her knees again, breathing rapidly. "I won't make it! I won't make it! I'll give birth here in the forest without anyone's help." Terrified, she cried, and even though the pain had subsided for a moment, she remained on her knees. She needed to gather her thoughts, but she couldn't.She cried as another contraction ripped through her belly and lower back. And when it ended, her mind returned. She stood and lit a candle. She placed it on the table and looked around the room. "I'll give birth to my child here," she thought, and then said aloud: "Honey, we'll see each other soon for the first time, by candlelight, in an old cottage in the middle of the forest. You'll see the little one. We'll be happy together." A bed stood against the wall where the door had been. She approached it and wondered whether to lie down or not. And when another contraction came, she knelt before the bed and decided to lie down for a moment. It wasn't dirty. It even looked freshly made. She lay down and waited for the next contractions and the breaks between them. The silence in the cottage was almost palpable; she couldn't hear the trees, only her own thoughts and screams as she couldn't bear the pain anymore. Finally, she felt something else, something telling her to get out of bed, but she couldn't get up, so she knelt on the sheets and knew what to do. She pushed as hard as she could, gritting her teeth and eyes. Then she breathed rapidly, trying to get enough air into her lungs so she wouldn't run out when she pushed again, but she didn't have time; the next contraction came too quickly. She pushed with all her strength and choked. Another moment of rest, another breath, and another contraction came before she could catch her breath. She pushed, choking harder and harder, the pain tearing at her lower body, she felt like she was about to burst. So this must be it, she thought. She gathered all her strength and willpower and pushed endlessly. She felt it happening, the baby coming out. She touched the head with her hands and helped the baby out of herself. It took a moment longer, she had to keep pushing, but finally the baby came out and she took it in her arms. They looked into each other's eyes. She and he. He's so beautiful, he has such wise eyes, and he knows I'm his mother. She savored the moment and forgot about the birth. But after a moment, the placenta, which she still had to deliver, reminded her. She bit off the umbilical cord and threw everything into a bucket on the other side of the room. The baby whimpered, sighed, and closed its eyes. "Don't fall asleep, little one," the mother thought. She lay down next to him and watched her son for several hours. She gave him her breast to suck, and after a few hours, she fell asleep. When she woke up, it was light, and she saw the little one sleeping beside her. "I have to go home." She wrapped the baby in a sheet and left the house. She carried the little one and walked until she reached the town. Then she told him about what had happened to her, but no one had ever seen that house again, and she never found it again.A bed stood against the wall where the door was. She approached it and wondered whether to lie down or not. And when another contraction came, she knelt in front of the bed and decided to lie down for a moment. It wasn't dirty. It even looked freshly made. She lay down and waited for the next contractions and the breaks between them. The silence in the cottage was almost palpable; she couldn't hear the trees, only her own thoughts and screams when she couldn't bear the pain anymore. Finally, she felt something else, something telling her to get out of bed, but she couldn't get up, so she knelt on the sheets and knew what to do. She pushed as hard as she could, gritting her teeth and eyes. Then she breathed rapidly, trying to get air into her lungs to keep it going when she pushed again, but she didn't have time; the next contraction came too quickly. She pushed with all her might and choked. Another moment of rest, breathing in reserve, and another contraction arrived before she could catch her breath. She pushed harder and harder, choking, the pain down below was tearing her apart, she felt like she was about to burst. So this must be it, she thought. She gathered all her strength and willpower and pushed endlessly. She felt it happening, the baby coming out. She touched the baby's head with her hands and helped it out of herself. It took a moment longer, she had to keep pushing, but finally the baby came out and she took it in her arms. They looked into each other's eyes. She and he. How beautiful he was, with such a wise look in his eyes, and he knew I was his mother. She savored the moment and forgot about the birth. But after a moment, the placenta, which she still had to deliver, reminded her. She bit off the umbilical cord and dumped everything into a bucket on the other side of the room. The baby whimpered, sighed, and closed its eyes. Don't fall asleep, little one, the mother thought. She lay down next to him and watched her son for several hours. She gave him her breast to suck, and after a few hours, she fell asleep. When she woke up, it was light, and she saw the little boy sleeping beside her. "I have to go home." She wrapped the baby in a sheet and left the house. She carried the little boy and walked until she reached the town. Then she told me about what had happened to her, but no one had ever seen that house again, and she never found it again.A bed stood against the wall where the door was. She approached it and wondered whether to lie down or not. And when another contraction came, she knelt in front of the bed and decided to lie down for a moment. It wasn't dirty. It even looked freshly made. She lay down and waited for the next contractions and the breaks between them. The silence in the cottage was almost palpable; she couldn't hear the trees, only her own thoughts and screams when she couldn't bear the pain anymore. Finally, she felt something else, something telling her to get out of bed, but she couldn't get up, so she knelt on the sheets and knew what to do. She pushed as hard as she could, gritting her teeth and eyes. Then she breathed rapidly, trying to get air into her lungs to keep it going when she pushed again, but she didn't have time; the next contraction came too quickly. She pushed with all her might and choked. Another moment of rest, breathing in reserve, and another contraction arrived before she could catch her breath. She pushed harder and harder, choking, the pain down below was tearing her apart, she felt like she was about to burst. So this must be it, she thought. She gathered all her strength and willpower and pushed endlessly. She felt it happening, the baby coming out. She touched the baby's head with her hands and helped it out of herself. It took a moment longer, she had to keep pushing, but finally the baby came out and she took it in her arms. They looked into each other's eyes. She and he. How beautiful he was, with such a wise look in his eyes, and he knew I was his mother. She savored the moment and forgot about the birth. But after a moment, the placenta, which she still had to deliver, reminded her. She bit off the umbilical cord and dumped everything into a bucket on the other side of the room. The baby whimpered, sighed, and closed its eyes. Don't fall asleep, little one, the mother thought. She lay down next to him and watched her son for several hours. She gave him her breast to suck, and after a few hours, she fell asleep. When she woke up, it was light, and she saw the little boy sleeping beside her. "I have to go home." She wrapped the baby in a sheet and left the house. She carried the little boy and walked until she reached the town. Then she told me about what had happened to her, but no one had ever seen that house again, and she never found it again.The next contraction came too quickly. She pushed with all her might and choked. Another moment of rest and breathing, and another contraction came before she could catch her breath. She pushed, choking harder and harder; the pain was tearing her apart down below, she felt like she was about to burst. So this must be it, she thought. She summoned all her strength and willpower and pushed endlessly. She felt it happening, the baby coming out. She touched the baby's head with her hands and helped the baby out of herself. It took a moment longer, she had to keep pushing, but finally the baby came out and she took it in her arms. They looked into each other's eyes. She and he. How beautiful he was, with such a wise gaze, and he knew I was his mother. She savored the moment and forgot about the birth. But after a moment, the placenta, which she still had to deliver, reminded her. She bit off the umbilical cord and dumped everything into a bucket on the other side of the room. The baby whimpered, sighed, and closed its eyes. Don't fall asleep, little one, his mother thought. She lay down next to him and watched her son for several hours. She nursed him, and after a few hours, she fell asleep. When she woke up, it was light, and she saw the little one sleeping beside her. I have to go home. She wrapped the baby in a sheet and left the house. She carried the little one and walked on. Until she reached the town. Then she told him about what had happened to her, but no one had ever seen that house again, and she never found it again.The next contraction came too quickly. She pushed with all her might and choked. Another moment of rest and breathing, and another contraction came before she could catch her breath. She pushed, choking harder and harder; the pain was tearing her apart down below, she felt like she was about to burst. So this must be it, she thought. She summoned all her strength and willpower and pushed endlessly. She felt it happening, the baby coming out. She touched the baby's head with her hands and helped the baby out of herself. It took a moment longer, she had to keep pushing, but finally the baby came out and she took it in her arms. They looked into each other's eyes. She and he. How beautiful he was, with such a wise gaze, and he knew I was his mother. She savored the moment and forgot about the birth. But after a moment, the placenta, which she still had to deliver, reminded her. She bit off the umbilical cord and dumped everything into a bucket on the other side of the room. The baby whimpered, sighed, and closed its eyes. Don't fall asleep, little one, his mother thought. She lay down next to him and watched her son for several hours. She nursed him, and after a few hours, she fell asleep. When she woke up, it was light, and she saw the little one sleeping beside her. I have to go home. She wrapped the baby in a sheet and left the house. She carried the little one and walked on. Until she reached the town. Then she told him about what had happened to her, but no one had ever seen that house again, and she never found it again.

Cosmic Conspiracies

A commercial skate cog sailed across the roaring northern waters, laden with cargo from Tremes, a port town nestled between the fjords, to Kasterkar. A strong wind tossed the cog in all directions. Hectoliters of water poured from the cloud-black sky. The cog's skates helped keep it upright, but they would have been a huge problem if the ship had run aground. The sailors struggled with the square sail, which was flopping like a fish on land. Two sailors shouted at each other, trying to keep the sail level. In the doorway to the lower deck stood a captain with a goatee and short mustache, a small scar under his right eye, and a long yellow hooded coat. The captain directed the sailors, barely able to keep his feet from the rising wind. The sailors struggled with the lines. Suddenly, one of them was thrown from the mast as if by a slingshot by a sudden gust of wind. He held on to the rope, circled the choppy waves, and returned to the deck. He struck the wooden mast and fell like a log to the ground. Without a second thought, the captain rushed to the rescue. He grabbed the unfortunate man by the collar and, with great effort, dragged him into the room. He called another sailor to help him hold the sail. The second sailor ran to the deck in just his undershirt and, like a cat, climbed the mast. The ropes twisted wildly, and the sailor barely managed to grab the thickest one, corresponding to the position of the sail. The sailor who had fallen from the mast lay in the room with a gash in his head, clutching his bleeding wound, applying a wet cloth to the wound. The lamps hanging on the deck had long since extinguished by the rain, even though they were supposed to be waterproof. The wind continued. Suddenly, reflections of light appeared on the water. The captain, with great curiosity, crawled to the side. The reflections visible in the distance were approaching the ship. The captain clung to the railing. Underwater, he saw the outline of what looked like a large fish. Suddenly, the object leaped from the water and hovered several meters above the ship. The captain examined the faintly glowing object, its outline resembling a thick, elongated cigar. He also saw the large, engraved letters XQ. The object brightened slightly and moved like an arrow, away from the ship, further causing an unimaginable gust of air. The cog capsized.

Right

Two great armies faced each other. Two armored forces with arguments of steel. The men turned their weapons against each other. In a few moments, they would fall upon each other and begin killing. Which was better? Neither knew, but each fought to defend his own. Another battle would soon begin, one that would resolve nothing.

He was there too. He stood among similar, indistinguishable soldiers. Fear united them all, transforming them into puppets holding weapons. He stood, clutching a banner. The most precious thing he had ever seen. He was ready to die for it. But neither he nor any other soldier could realize that he was actually holding a long pole with a red flag unfurled, with some colorful painting on it. For him and the puppets with him, it was the most magnificent symbol. A symbol of the cause they had known since childhood, in which they believed, which kept them alive… and for which they would soon begin killing.

Finally, at a signal from a better-dressed puppet, the battle began, and the large armored regiments charged at each other. He too moved, still holding the banner. Like the other puppets, he lashed out at the enemy with an incomprehensible, blind rage. Steel clashed against steel. The earth opened its weary mouth and began to drink blood in disgust. But he no longer saw blood, suffering, or pain. He shut off his mind and did what others did—fought.

He still proudly held the red flag, giving strength to his entire regiment.

The fight was fierce. Besides… what isn't fierce? Many, many, many died. Most of the puppets later felt that too many had died. His regiment began to win. The banner he held waved proudly above the bodies of his enemies like a stick stuck in a pile of mangled corpses. Suddenly, the enemy saw a glimmer of hope—the toppling of the banner. A large group charged at him. He defended himself bravely, and several began to help him, but all perished. Eventually, he too began to weaken, but he continued to fight and defend the banner. He was wounded many times, but he persevered. Unfortunately, under the enemy's pressure, the banner slipped from his hands and fell to the ground. With his last remaining strength, he picked it up and continued fighting.

Finally, peace returned to the battlefield. He could breathe a sigh of relief. He was greatly surprised to find that the enemies were not attacking him, but were simply pressing forward. What terrified him was the loss of his cause. He couldn't bear to watch his friends being slaughtered, and what he had always believed in slowly fading into oblivion. He didn't understand why the battle had taken such a sudden turn, and why his cause was suddenly in a losing position. After all, he had defended the banner and raised it from the ground at a critical moment. He looked with pain and resignation at the torn flag fluttering in the wind, and when he saw it, he froze with terror and stood there until the end of the battle...

The flag was blue...