Owen's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

Owen returned to his practice space the next morning with new verses scribbled in his journal. The walk through the snow felt shorter now that he knew where he was going. He rounded the last cabin and headed north toward the icicle formation. He stopped twenty feet away. Dark lines ran through the ice like veins - cracks that hadn't been there yesterday. The massive curtain of icicles leaned slightly forward, and through the gaps he could see hollow spaces underneath where the ice had pulled away from the rock. Owen stepped closer and heard a sharp crack. A chunk of ice the size of his fist broke free and shattered at his feet. He looked up at the arch of icicles overhead, at the web of fractures spreading through them. The formation was collapsing. Another day, maybe two, and the whole thing would come down. His hidden space would be gone, exposed to whatever cameras watched the open ground. Owen pulled out his journal and wrote quickly: 'nothing stays frozen forever.' Then he picked up his grandmother's guitar and played through his entire set once, recording it on his phone with cold fingers. When the last note faded, he packed up and walked back toward the cabins. He'd have to find another way to practice - or he'd have to stop hiding. Either way, the choice was coming.