Flash Fiction: Frosted Heart

From the prompt “fern” for Ad Hoc Fiction

Icy tracery on my window; the thin tendrils of frost speak of the chill outside, and I shiver from something more than cold. Jack Frost’s ferns warn me of his arrival.

He showed me the live ones, once. They were fragile and ethereal in the weak sunlight; but the delicate tracery vanished under my fingers, and Jack pouted. My warmth was deadly in that place.

He has never lost the scar that my lips caused on his frozen skin; the angry red that blossomed has not faded. He asked for the kiss, but has not forgiven me for giving it.

And so I shiver when I see the spreading ferns on my window.

Jack Frost comes.

Author: kate

Kate Coe is an editor, book reviewer and writer of fiction & fantasy. She writes the sparkpunk GreenSky series and blogs at writingandcoe.co.uk. When she's not working, she fills her spare time in between writing with web design, gaming, geeky cross-stitch and DIY (which may or may not involve destroying things). She also reads far fewer books that she would like to, but possibly more than she really has time for.