short stories

The Sun’s Kiss

The queen in her dark halls kept a mirror of ice that had never known the sun’s kiss. Within it was frozen a maiden with paler lips, sweeter eyes. A man appeared in the mirror’s cold depths. The queen breathed over its surface, erasing his reflection, and turned. Waited.

Fantasy. Reflections, ratios, and the price of sunlight. You may be better off reading Rilke. For Cofax. Thanks to Mrissa, Lauren McDonald, Geoff Alex Cohen, Margaret Ronald, Greg London, Charles M., Rilina, SeraC, Stacy C., and Scott Andrews. Appeared in Ideomancer vol. 4, issue 3, September 2005.