Crystal Clear

A fortress of glassy glacial ice is melting. It took years to build and it took all sorts of engineers and late nights to concoct. With so little left for it to stand for, it has decided it would be best to fade. It wasn't an immediate decision of course. It had liked the roomy caverns and echoing hallways within. The crystalline fortress knew it was time to move on though.

The people within it were leaving. Slowly they left in the dead of night. Stealing away what little possessions they owned, they saw no other way to survive. It had convinced them its walls were safe. Locking in the numb chill of solitude, the people forgot their worries and the outside world. Family faded in their memories and icicles encased their hearts. Though it was an easier life, it was also a life of death and dying connections to things which used to make someone giggle, or moan, or desire. Instead, the fortress stole away joy and thanksgiving and replaced it with pride and doubt. No one sought them out for they did not know where their loved ones ran to. Little did the icicle people know that their loved ones mourned for them outside the bluish shadowed life they lead. When they were justified in feeling isolated because no one came for them, the inhabitants further embraced the slick walls and sparkling floors.

It lost the fight. No amount of ice could contain people. Not desire, nor love triumphant brought this mighty fortress down. No it was an old lady with a long memory. The long memory meant jagged edges still unworn by the sliding pressure of the glacial age. Her partner passed on long ago, but she really could not remember the end of her love. She forgot her true love and her shining smile. The true death of this fortress came when she refused to die, her hatred of a long memory still lived. She was the only one who remained in that glassy house. All else was gone. It made the choice to come down around her in a silent homage to the hate that filled her chest. It saw no other choice than to capture her. Her company would suffice for the next millenia. But would it outlive her rage, it never knew. It would never know because she kept it so well hidden. It was not the rage of a burning aching pain. The rage within her was icier than her captor, and she hid within it to save her last remaining crystalline heart, though shattered, pieces. Though hard to believe, this slow and dripping fall of fortress walls and the wicked sustaining hardness of her heart were a kind of battle. Time was inconsequential. And even the reason for this fight lost meaning. Without this, they both lost meaning.

When she walked free, the world held a new value. One worth living for. She had no one. But she had her heart, its own chrystalline shards reassembled in a glassy prison. She was impenetrable.