This is a short story inspired by a fantasy picture posted on Diana Wallace Peach’s blog with the aim of encouraging some speculative short fiction. How could I resist?
Lars Svansson was fed up. He pulled his glove and sleeve back to check the time and sighed a cloud into the frosty air. An hour and fifty minutes they’d been trudging through the desolate Norwegian landscape when they could have taken snowmobiles and been, well, wherever they were a damn sight quicker than this. He carried on through the snow.
It was getting colder. He glanced over his shoulder as the sun clambered down from its low shelf and began burrowing into the distant white-shrouded hills. As the last pale golden beam was extinguished, the undulating plain shimmered in a blue, unearthly twilight. Lars looked at the person behind him in the line of men tramping through the snow.
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