The following one thousand word story is my response to January’s Photo Prompt challenge over on Diane Wallace-Peach’s excellent blog.
Kelvin M. Knight
This ice in me, this ice in me, how I love this ice in me. It makes me strong. It makes me a survivor. Out here where the desolation and isolation would crush a weaker soul, ice boosts my strength until I feel the spirit of ten men, no, one hundred men, coursing through me. Yet, I am no man, even if I am subconsciously choosing the mightiest of their frail shapes.
There is nothing frail about ice. I revel in its sharpness. I admire its lightness. I cannot get enough of its untamed form: water, dear water, ever-changing, ever on the go, like a tidal wave inside me. One that creates these shapes flowing out of me. One which washes this beast out of…
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