Of Snow and Ice by Paige Mongon
This questionable short story is a product of about three existential crises and an ungodly amount of green tea… I also, rather unfortunately, appear to have lost any semblance of creativity lately, so you must excuse whatever mess of words follows this (but please enjoy nonetheless). It was designed to withstand the tests of time. Harsh, barren; yet not unforgiving. Life teemed within the tundras sheathed in snow, the shrubbery clothed in white powder, the craggy mountains cloaked in the essence of stars. The land radiated a coldness which belied the life within, for sheltered in its rocky heart it cradled the tentative warmth of life. Naught but the wild, the untamed could thrive here, living by the unhindered glow of coruscating stars. It was a land of hushed beauty, a land of boundless hopes and wild dreams and untamed mystery. Hesitant hues of sparkling snow and glistening ice scattered across its frigid expanse, setting the land awash in shy...