They laughed and said I was off my rocker.
I smiled, content to bide my time. I would win the bet, earn the last laugh and gain some cold, hard cash. Summer turned to fall, and autumn succumbed to frigid winter. I set the date to prove them wrong.
“It’s the coldest day in a century,” they complained. I remained steadfast.
The polar vortex froze Lake Michigan’s shoreline, her beaches transformed from a liquid to a solid, firm enough to hold my weight. Warm vapor rose from her waves, and for a moment, I dared to walk on water.
_________________________________________
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer