Winter Surreal / Absurdist Short Stories

The dining room is bathed in the warm, artificial glow of a crystal chandelier. Outside, a blizzard rages, frosting the windowpanes. Inside, the air is still and chilled, smelling faintly of pine needles and something sterile, like ozone after a lightning strike. The atmosphere is one of forced, impeccable domesticity.

An unnaturally warm winter has turned the forest into a slushy, half-rotten landscape. An industrial chemical spill has accelerated this decay, creating a surreal ecosystem of phosphorescent flora and mutated fauna. The air is cold but damp, smelling of wet soil and something acrid, like ozone.