Down Where Sound Comes Blunt

Ellen presses the cool heels of her palms against her eyes. She imagines the underside of the lake ice below, with its own ponderous slate-and-snow sky and shafts of ashen light dancing, fading in the quiet deep; the water’s gentle crush.

The temptation is maddening—her diving gear is within reach and the air hole’s only ten paces away—

First published in F&SF — March/April 2018