Category: Frost

Frost #2

  
The Ruins were quiet. There had been war here. But that was some time ago. What war? He didn’t keep track of such things. He moved across the earth with each season. 

But the girl. She lived here. And every winter. She was on the lake. 

She sat at her window…

“I’ve been watching you Frost. For someone who moves as much as you…you have been very still. What has your attention? Surely not these ruins?.”  She came walking on top of the snow… Her robes shining silver. 

“The girl has something in her. A fire. The same thing you saw in me…when you found me.But it is dying there is nothing here to feed it.”

“I found you,over 300 years ago…I’m surprised you remember.”

“I remember everything. I am forever in debt to you and your kindness. You know,there is no one else but you.”

She smiled. Letting her hair down. Golden.Like the sun. But cold…

“Winter has come. And with fury. ”

The wind shifted. Settling against the earth…as snow began to drive down against the small village. 

Jack touched the window. Frost began to etch across the panes of glass…a ballerina …a circus tent ….an elephant trumpeting.

“You are winter,but to me you will always be Luna.The Lady in the snow. You are more beautiful than ever.”

“Before you I was just cold. And dark.Am mistaken or have you FINALLY turned in your mischievous ways? Lately the word is …that winter is a wonderland.You’ve given me beauty.”

“It was nothing that was not already yours,Luna.”

“Do you still have the visions? Frost.”

She touched his face. A finger across a scar.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you….”

He saw the ice….rushing water….his chest freezing….fist against the ice…he was stuck….no getting out…no getting out.

“I only remember. Your beauty and your kiss, they saved me. And gave me immortality. I’m sorry I’ve been away.”

He looked at the window.The girl was awake ….and drawing the pictures on her window. 

“I just want to leave something  for them to look for.”

“And we do.Look. It’s almost Christmas. Let’s go together.We have many windows.”

Frost

  
After the fact. That’s what he was. A long shadow,standing still by the lake. He listened to the ice as it thickened under the driving snow. The bare trees. No one ever asked where the colours went after the leaves fall. They have to go somewhere, don’t they? Or maybe they don’t. A memory can feel like an event. And a shadow can look like a person. Winter can feel like a season. But they are all very different…

Maybe winter is just a blank canvas for new beginnings…for dreams.
After the fact. After the summer. After the affair. After the show.
That’s what he was.
He stood still. A shadow by the lake. Where the girl was skating. She couldn’t see, but it was right there. By the red bench.The ice was thinner. . . 
 a memory… 
A hollow sound of echoes and ice breaking – cold water rushing in. But that was from the past…
This was a blank canvas. 
This was a new dream.
And he had to follow the girl. Where was she? Under the ice. No…they found her. She was being pulled from the water?
No that was the past. 
She was skating across the thin ice. He looked at it…
The snow falling…
He reached forward…
Leaving a print of snow flakes in her path…
His name was Frost…Jack Frost.