Panthalassa

[Bill Floyd]

The ice girl escaped the frozen wastes of Winter's Pole, her blueglass eyes glittering, her hooves trailing frost where she fled.

Great lumbering yeti pursued her across the Autumn Hills, where flocks of ravens stirred fallen leaves to obscure her trail.

In the Meadows of Spring, a boy made of straw was stringing his guitar when he saw her parting the grass.  He fell in love and she wove her melting hands into his dry heat.

Their kiss pulled the skies into a vortex that became the first hurricane, whose winds flung the yeti back into the dark mountains, and whose rains sowed the Sands of Summer with the strangest of seeds.

When at last the storm abated there was no sign of the ice girl and the straw boy, but a great ocean now surrounded the Land of Seasons (known thenceforth as Pangaea) and a Spirit was moving over the face of the deep.

[Gita]

Funny that Jeanette said she'd read this to her husband.

My husband read it out loud to me last night. Now, reading it again for myself, my first thought was that the title must be a Greek word and looked it up and got a fascinating geological lesson.

As Angela said,  this is a lovely creation story. You have blended poetic language and  myth and passion and this could be your best Six ever.  Some days, your writing could melt stones.

[Jeanette Cheezum]

This was brillliant! As soon as my huband comes into the room I will give him a kiss and read this to him.

[Teresa]

Lovely new voice here.  Your imagination is limitless.

[Cita]

I read it out loud.  It reads like an old English myth, though not in OE.  Thank you.  My spring needed that.

[Angela]

As lovely a creation myth as any, and better than most.  I like that a storm created by lovers nourished the earth with water.  Read this a number of times and enjoyed the images greatly.  Fine work, Bill.