There are monsters under this ice. Your mother and your father might smile at this and say that Of Course it’s Only Make-Believe, but
There are monsters under this ice. And in the darkness of the cold black night they creak and they groan and they pop and they crack the cold black surface. You can feel them as you whiz by on nighttime skates, straining and stretching and snapping at the path beneath your feet. By the light of day they watch and they wait and they while away the light; eyes on our big bold boots, our thick warm coats, our soft wool mittens.
The ice protects us.
But it can’t protect us forever.
And monsters are good at waiting.
Which is why…
On this ice there is a hut. This hut is round and bright and tall and fits on the ice like ice itself. It has no door, because doors will open and let things in. It has no windows, because windows will expose you to the winds and moving faces of things outside.
But, if you are careful and clever and make yourself small, you can crawl into this hut and make something of the light inside. The magic of the hut is this: like a gleaming stone or guiding star it beckons and protects, drawing the light and holding it like a spell. As a secret bright-lit place it offers a secret bright-lit space – a space you can hold inside yourself as safeguard from monsters forever.
Stardust, Icedust, Sundust, Wind.
Let your mother smile and your father grin, let the ogres groan and the monsters moan; come into this hut to claim a bright space for your own.
Warming Huts Submission 2018 An AtLRG collaboration with Reshal Stein