FRIGID TALES

1. Strings were there...of course..but some detached
and some loose. She trudged ahead. Even the huge parka was nothing compared to the weight. She was happy to have found the music she had been looking for. The wind whistled past her playing the flute with the sweetest notes. It was almost meditation. She moved forward on the vast blue icy stretch. She knew why she loved the glaciers. The rivers frozen in time. Change was scary sometimes. The stories invariably got more engaging near the end.  She fell. Tired and placated. The powdery crystals like a mantle covered the resting body. The wind played the most palliative requiem....
.... she lay loooking up from beneath the icy glaze...unblinking...towards the universe. Her eyes, after a long time, glistening with the colours she always coveted. The aurora mystically stimulated the velvetty black cosmic. She became eternal...