The ice of the lake is a transparent pane of glass. A window to depths of cerulean and shadow beneath my skimmer’s skates.

I see the dragon’s skeleton in frigid gloom, its horned skull the size of a house.

I shiver not from the cold wind adjusting my sail.

Copyright © by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.

Discover more of my Aethereal Musings.

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