February 15, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story on ice. It can be an event on ice, a game on ice or a drink on ice. Go where the prompt leads you.
Charli Mills is one icicle short of a glacier some times, but the descriptions of Swedish ice caves, here, has me wanting to visit.
‘Hey Logan, you got any ice?’
‘Sure. Bottom drawer of the freezer. What you want it for?’
‘A bath. This guy said it’s good.’
‘I think ice is the devil’s work, Morgan.’
‘You been puffing the wacky-backy, dude?’
‘No. Maybe. A couple. Anyhoo, how come it floats on its liquid self…’
‘And it’s like totally cold and can burn you?’
‘And you can stick you face onto an ice box like mega-glue and still slip over on the stuff like frozen oil?’
‘Like a politician’s promise.’
‘That’s a shit analogy, Logan.’