Traveller (Planetside) (2014) by Digital Blasphemy

Image courtesy of Digital Blasphemy

A weary traveller on a cold, desolate journey.  Where, pray tell, is he going?  Whence has he come?  Write a little Flashy Fiction that shows us why your traveller is out and about in such conditions.  I hope he dressed warmly.

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One thought on “Snowscape

  1. Ice. Cold. Precise. Life sustaining water held in suspension by an unforgiving force.

    Weirdly enough my brow is dripping with sweat as I negotiate the chasm before me. In a desperate moment of triumph I trust the very last, crunching grasp of my right crampon as my left boot almost fails to find purchase. Just before it actually bit into the other side I caught myself wondering about the irony that my efforts to understand the frigid reality of past and future ice ages is making my beard crust into a real time testament of futility.

    It worked. Distracted by my lack of grooming and a disregard for any obvious vessel to discharge the liguid remains of enthusiastically chewed tobacco I negotiated the leap deftly and sank my pick axe just far enough ahead to swing safely off the precipice and onto a patch of permafrost that begrudgingly refuses to ice over.

    I look up. The sun isn’t going to set just yet. It won’t for another month. It only warms you up if you allow the cherished memory of its brother, the setting sun from the south, that woke the yard birds in the spring and warmed your face before the coffe brewed to simmer.

    The leap was a success. Twenty feet to go. Oh no. I left my Sherpas at the bar with my debit card. Now I don’t know what to do.


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