Tales of the Ice

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Broken Mirrors

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Well, I have something fun for you today: a short flash-fiction piece that I’m working on. This is a work in progress, but I think its in somewhat decent shape (though my apologies for any typos… and for the lack of pictures… not a lot that actually reflects the story out there).

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Grunda shivered as he pulled his bearskin tighter around his squatted form, thankful for the windless day, despite the cold. The ice-field stretched out before him towards the horizon, broken sporadically by sharp, jutting splinters of rock. He raised one hand to shade his eyes from the sun, though the glare off of the ice wasn’t any better. From the vantage point of the low hill on which he stood he could see nothing but flat ice and rock to the far horizon, like a mountain had exploded and rained fragments of itself down across some wilderness…

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