Rowdy’s Dream Blog #22

Scratched Thumb

Brutus De Cervantes
1 min read
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I am transported back to an earlier time when the city was a small farming town. It is winter. There are a few inches of new snow on the ground. People are driving and skating on a "road" near a farm. Suddenly skaters and cars begin to plunge and disappear through thin ice that has been hidden by the snow. Dozens die. I climb into the back of an ambulance with a slightly scratched thumb. A man is sitting in back with both legs encased in ice. He is concerned about my thumb and offers me some ice for it.
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