Once upon a time, they would dance on the ice, unworried and unafraid.
But not any more.
She was alone now. She didn't fear the ice.
But she hated it.
She hated it for taking his life, her best friend, the one she could dance with.
She glared at the iced over pond as she walked by, hoping the daggers from her eyes might crack it, to warn others.
It stayed smooth, due to it's rebellious nature.
And she stopped.
He was rebellious, too.
And comforting.
And dangerous.
And playful.
He was like ice, she thought. In almost all ways.
Maybe she would learn to dance on the ice. For him. Maybe he would like that.
He had always loved dancing.
She took a step on the ice, one foot, then the other.
And she learned to dance on ice once again.
"Thank you, Jack."
