Black Frost


Scenes of futures past

Black Frost

Dash McCallen



But then, it was always cold this time of year, so it did not alarm James Cutter, Ph.D, Sc.D. Still, the arthritis in his feet complained as he walked across the morning kitchen tile.


He yawned deeply and looked out the window of the kitchen window that was above the sink as he filled the pot to heat coffee for his choice of morning tea and toast. James looked out the window near his car, the sun had not yet shown on the ground fully. The light filtered through the trees and only illuminated islands of the yard.

But it was dark in those pools of light. As if the grass was still clinging to the night. James rubbed his eyes and turned way, he had overslept and over-drank the night before during a video conference with other biologists. The conference got heated…

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Sail into the harbor of my soul; tell me your heart

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