My Frozen World
by 
claremerison
|
Posted: Friday, November 27, 2009 Word Count: 413 Summary: Flash fiction Didn't get the words in...got carried away, but had a great time writing it! |
Does water in a river flow underneath the ice?
I stand and wonder what would happen if I jumped straight in. Freeze to death I expect. I might be carried away by the current raging under the frozen surface to some other land; the land of all the fish and under water creatures that can’t survive under the ice. I could become a mermaid; lady of the frozen lake. The fish would stare and bow their heads in reverence. Water weeds waving their salutes at my noble stance would part to let me glide gracefully through. I would look up at the surface and see a mirror image of my world in reverse.
Do you think the current is strong enough under the ice?
This is a slow meandering river with gentle, soft banks, not a raging torrent with harsh impassable sides and deadly branches waiting to stick their fists in your eyes. I could travel in style to my underwater paradise. I could float as if carried on a throne, taking in the sights, following the contours of the lesser viewed underside of the river bank. My hair would drift out behind me in a trail, a comet in slow motion; streamline, trailblazing. I wouldn’t need to swim, the soft current would carry me, limbs relaxed and floating gently towards my ice covered goal.
Do living things survive, under the ice?
On my journey I could pick up those on their way to the frozen lake. I would have a train of followers, an aquatic locomotion, snaking its way along, silently. The insects would surround me with their minute musings and jerky movements; pushing us on to dreamland, wings flapping futilely, they would race into the distance, miniature scouts for a supernatural journey. Catfish and eels would follow regally on my tail, musing the state of affairs and lamenting a time long past. I would lead the line into the unknown, on to paradise.
How much light is there, under the ice?
The world would be a plethora of frozen colours. Icy blue would penetrate the prison from the perfect sky above, beyond the surface white would dominate, cracking and shattering into a million shades. But below, illuminated by the glow of electric blue, magical, fiery red and white-hot yellow, we would be disco ball of light; forever dancing and shimmering, flashing and sparkling. In my underground world life would be vibrant and beautiful. Oh!
Could I make it underneath the ice?
I stand and wonder what would happen if I jumped straight in. Freeze to death I expect. I might be carried away by the current raging under the frozen surface to some other land; the land of all the fish and under water creatures that can’t survive under the ice. I could become a mermaid; lady of the frozen lake. The fish would stare and bow their heads in reverence. Water weeds waving their salutes at my noble stance would part to let me glide gracefully through. I would look up at the surface and see a mirror image of my world in reverse.
Do you think the current is strong enough under the ice?
This is a slow meandering river with gentle, soft banks, not a raging torrent with harsh impassable sides and deadly branches waiting to stick their fists in your eyes. I could travel in style to my underwater paradise. I could float as if carried on a throne, taking in the sights, following the contours of the lesser viewed underside of the river bank. My hair would drift out behind me in a trail, a comet in slow motion; streamline, trailblazing. I wouldn’t need to swim, the soft current would carry me, limbs relaxed and floating gently towards my ice covered goal.
Do living things survive, under the ice?
On my journey I could pick up those on their way to the frozen lake. I would have a train of followers, an aquatic locomotion, snaking its way along, silently. The insects would surround me with their minute musings and jerky movements; pushing us on to dreamland, wings flapping futilely, they would race into the distance, miniature scouts for a supernatural journey. Catfish and eels would follow regally on my tail, musing the state of affairs and lamenting a time long past. I would lead the line into the unknown, on to paradise.
How much light is there, under the ice?
The world would be a plethora of frozen colours. Icy blue would penetrate the prison from the perfect sky above, beyond the surface white would dominate, cracking and shattering into a million shades. But below, illuminated by the glow of electric blue, magical, fiery red and white-hot yellow, we would be disco ball of light; forever dancing and shimmering, flashing and sparkling. In my underground world life would be vibrant and beautiful. Oh!
Could I make it underneath the ice?