Tuesday, September 6, 2016

100 Words a Day 919

A series of distant booms alerted us to the cracking of the icy peaks that shot up from the ground like boney fingers. We watched with a mixture of disbelief and chagrin as two large knuckles sheared away from the lower digits and crashed together, sealing behind us the frigid pass we had used to access the bumpy ice field we found ourselves mired in.


“What will we do now?” Smiths asked. Unlike the better part of the crew, the heating unit in his enviro suit hadn’t started to fail and he was able to speak without uncontrollably chattering teeth.

No comments:

Post a Comment