THERMOMETER LEVEL: 3 DEGREES
Mark lifted one leg over the other, leaning over ellies chair to reach the temperature recorder. After that anomaly, he wasn't taking any chances.
THERMOMETER LEVEL: 3 DEGREES
"Hey, think you could lay off the chair?" Ellies voice rang out, and Mark obliged, finally removing himself from the desk.
"sorry, just a little spooked by it all..." Ellie smiled, turning to the Temperature recorder.
THERMOMETER LEVEL: 3 DEGREES
"anything new at the site?" Ellie shook her head, and Mark put palm to brow, thinking. "what the hell was it?" Ellie pulled out a sample of leaf, handing it to Mark.
"It's pinus densiflora." Mark turned it over in his hands. "no pine trees grow anywhere near the base, let alone the damn pole!" Mark grasped it firmly.
"so what do we do?" Ellie shook her head once again.
"there's nothing we really can do now. It's firmly planted, and unearthing it woul-" Mark cut her off.
"wait wait, 'Planted'? By who?!"
THERMOMETER LEVEL: 6 DEGREES
Mark and Ellie turned to the reader.
THERMOMETER LEVEL: 9 DEGREES
They turned to each other.
THERMOMETER LEVEL: 10 DEGREES
Swiftly they rushed to the airlock, grabbing their gear and bolting it towards the pole.
THERMOMETER LEVEL: 10 DEGREES
They stared, dumbfounded. On the snowy floor of the northern Pole was a perfectly round, perfectly lit, perfectly planted, wreath.
YOU ARE READING
The Night's Fire-flaught (and 8 other winter stories)
RandomI wrote all of these mid November, and had them saved up for December.
