Ice Fight
The ice flow upon which we stand is breaking up. Fine, dark lines of fission snake along the cold white surface, in front of my amazed and horrified eyes. I know that it is caused by your fighting, the ice shattering beneath the force of your voices. I beg you to stop, before the ice separates completely. You both pause for breathe, and I sigh in relief. Then the cracks break open into wide expanses of dark, frigid water. I scream in shock and fear as you begin to drift away from each other, and me. Falling to my knees, the water on the surface of my section of ice numbing my skin, I desperately grab a hold onto each of your flows, the jagged edges cutting into my hands. I plead with you both to forgive each other, present each of your sides so you can understand each other, offer solutions to your problem. Still you drift, my arms straining against the pull. Then you turn on me in your pain, beating my hands until I let go in disbelief. My hands bleeding, my arms aching, my legs numb, I watch you leave, then yell my own rage and pain at you both. Angered, you drift faster, until you are dots on opposite ends of the horizon. I am alone, on an unsteady chunk of melting ice. The dark, engulfing water begins to look welcoming, as the pain seeps through my body…