Northern Lights: Stars Over the Ice

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    Onni’s breath turned to billowing clouds in the cold night air as he set down his hammer and turned his eyes from the tent pegs to the stars. He sat down with another huff of cloud, flexing his stiff and chafed hands, skin tight with the cold. He would build a fire in a minute. 

The moon was very bright, only half-full, and a sea of stars spiraled out in every direction from it. They were bright too, and cold as the ice. Other nights they seemed warm and shimmering to him, or twinkling with laughter, but tonight they were just cold.

Onni sighed and dropped his head. His thoughts flew back, as they had when he was sailing across the ice, to his sister, all alone on the cold, frozen ocean. His hand came up to rub the crystal that hung at his neck. He hoped she was safe. He prayed that she was safe, and that she had enough food, and that he wouldn’t die and leave her to die waiting and alone in their empty home, and he prayed most of all that he would get her the cure in time. 

He fell on his back inside the tent, breath rising in nebulous shadow toward the canvas above him. He couldn’t see the stars from in here. 

God, let there be a cure. 

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