I almost missed Friday Fictioneers last week. I was away for Thanksgiving, so I couldn’t post a story until last night. If you’re interested in reading it, it’s here. Here in Fayette, Iowa it’s a bright, frosty day with a windchill of -12 (Celsius). Perfect for an icy story.
Hope, Through Fire and Ice
“Kill me. Please!”
The healer looked at him gravely. “When I was a little girl, I contracted the burning sickness too. An alchemist injected ice into my veins to save my life. One drop was enough but his hand shook and he put in three. From then on, I could never get warm. I begged for death but it didn’t come.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“To tell you there is hope. Good can come from even the worst situations.” With that, she breathed her cooling breath on him and for the first time in months, he felt relief.
The Green-Walled Tower 