Arctic Abaddon
The moment I was created in that frozen cloud crucible, I knew I was a killer. I spun my six blades and my war cry joined that of my tens of millions of brethren. I fell like an arctic Abaddon, ready to destroy everything in my path. A fleshy digit was thrust out below me and I prepared to slice it to pieces.
“Look, a snowflake!”
A killing warmth surrounded me. My six daggers melted away as I puddled.
* * *
The moment I was created as a tiny water droplet on a little girl’s finger, I knew I was a life-giver . . .