The Ice Cave
Nov 1 · 2 min read
Rigid and cold, I sat in the ice cave, surrounded by crystals; how easily I could see through them, their emptiness, merely reflecting what they were not.
I searched, longing for warmth, longing for substance. In a crevice, I found something, radiant, a burning piece of amber. It wasn’t transparent like the others. It was rich: rich with colour, rich with power.


