Catherine Carpenter

The Frozen Pond

So much loss. The old man sat in silence, back pressed against an old hickory tree. His legs stretched out; In front of him, the pond was frozen solid. The world was an icy, white death, shrouded in mist. Each one of his breaths was painful, ragged, as though they were dragged through the teeth of some winter monster. “This will be as good a place as any to breathe my last,” he thought. The pressure in his chest was heavy, but the pain had ended, and only peace remained.