Winter had bitten. Mitchell walked to work across the frost. In the deep cold of early mornings it was stubborn and pervasive, singeing glass and metal with its creeping whiteness. He became fascinated by the larger patterns it created over the wide surfaces of the Court— the window panes of the swimming pool, the metal of the breakwater— as though these chaotic and intricate swirls were capable of illustrating the characteristics of the constituent materials: the fault-lines of minuscule flaws, the deeper patterns of atomic circulation. Sometimes, he’d stop and place a finger against the frost, leaving a smeared print in white. This was his first ever winter by the sea. 

Buy Scenes From The Island here.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.