PHOTO PROMPT © LIsa Fox
Polar ice was gone and the land filled up like an empty ice cube tray, leaving stranded islands of humanity. Most folks traveled by kayak, canoe, and small watercraft, waiting for the government to fix things.
She remembered a place where the river reached the mountain, the smooth rock path, and the cave.
She stocked up on food and petrol and looked for a sign; not realizing it would be a literal one.
The man’s long white hair and beard hid his age.
“She’s gotten me through travails no person could be expected to survive.”
“I’ll take her.”
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is the exemplar host of Friday Fictioneers.