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Short story: <i>Everything's Okay</i>

To find your way into her blue heart, frozen solid,

you have to press your way through shadows and bitter cold and jagged edges.

A skilled mountaineer, you have to scale dizzying heights, evade avalanches, slip down hidden frozen streams, dust off the snow and icicles and hope that your extremities don’t drop off from frostbite. You have to trudge in heavy boots through howling winds and past high cliff faces and trust that you won’t fall from poor visibility.

A practiced hunter, you have to search through the deathly cold howling around you, to find a crack in the frozen facade of that heart. You have to hunt for weakness in those icy defences with your icepick and your determination and the hope in your soul.

If you fail, she might let you stay anyway. The ever hopeful artist, just dye the snow and frost and howling wind red, light a small fire, and see if you can’t pretend that it’s warm, and loving, and real, and everything’s okay.

This is the result of a fifteen minute writing exercise. The only constrictions were the time limit and five randomly selected words from the dictionary. Today the words were: hunter, frozen, press, mountaineer, and artist.

Image courtesy of ParaScubaSailor.

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