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Set your story during polar night.

Posted in Winter on Jan 5, 2024

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✍️ 34 stories

The Lantern of Kaamos

Winner of Contest #232 🏆

The melting Arctic is a crime scene, and I am like CSI Ny-Ålesund. Trond is the anonymous perpetrator leaving evidence and clues for me to discover, like breadcrumbs leading back to him. “Jonna,” he had said, the day we first met at the research institute, “If you are going to make it up here, don’t lock your doors.” It seemed like a life philosophy, rather than a survival tip.It is ironic. Out on Kings Bay, the coal miners came first, then the science outposts. Trond was already out here mining the Arctic when I was still just a bright-eyed...

101 likes 66 comments 66
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The Northern Lights

Submitted to Contest #232

Cecilia sits at a desk most days, surrounded by a forest of reference books. We ran out of shelf space for her library some time ago, but instead of extending her domain, allowed the books to become the room. Low piles of them function as tables, vertiginous stacks decorate the walls and a couple of her horticultural catalogues double-up as door stops and window props, but only in the summer. During the endless winter months, when it’s minus twenty outside, we lock all our windows, turn up the heating and convert our home into an arboreal re...

40 likes 25 comments 25
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Svalbard

Shortlisted for Contest #232 ⭐️

In the summer its Midnight Sun, but in the winter its Polar Night. Two months of darkness! That was David’s way of introducing me to Svalbard.My pre-teen relocation to northern Virginia from Florida had never quite settled in me, both socially and meteorologically. On snow days, when my friends were gleeful with plans to meet at the park to sled, I would opt out for reasons of awkwardness, but mostly: it was too cold. As an adult, I hated the darkness of winter, and I hated driving in precarious weather, and I hated having a job that I could...

37 likes 15 comments 15
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Aurora of Love

Submitted to Contest #232

Aza was running late as usual and was cycling as fast as he could. It was raining and the roads were slippery. His headphones drowned out the sound of the bus honking at him as he ran a red light. He arrived at his college out of breath and drenched. Usually, early mornings coupled with drenched clothes annoyed him and put him in a mood. This morning was different, Aza was excited to see his girlfriend after being apart for two weeks. His eyes darted everywhere, searching for her as he walked into the atrium of their college. “Aza!” Som...

21 likes 7 comments 7
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Red Dog Poker Mornings

Submitted to Contest #232

Within our tiny buzz of activity in the vast bleak landscape and never ending gloom of polar winter, I study my opponents. The four of them sit around the only table of the only bar in Red Dog. They’re each holding five cards. I could use a drink, but unfortunately the town went dry a long time ago—indigenous Alaskan territories often enact alcohol bans. But people still need to distract themselves. Tuesday mornings are poker “night” for the night shift. I sip my Coke Zero, longing for something stronger to numb the pain of last years b...

19 likes 8 comments 8
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Peter the Polar Bear

Submitted to Contest #232

Chloe the Polar Bear and Monk the Polar Bear were walking on the ice by the water. They were holding hands. There were 37 bears in their grade at school, and Chloe was the first female to lose her virginity. Some of the bears were saying mean things about her. But she didn't care much. In a way, for her it was a badge of pride. She did not love Monk. And some females might say his face was a little odd. But he had a heavy snout, and most of the male bears were a little afraid of him. He was 1100 pounds. He and Chloe had done it about 50 time...

17 likes 1 comment 1
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The Greatest Battle That Never Happened

Submitted to Contest #232

The Greatest Battle That Never Happened                                                                 “Wine for my men, we ride at dawn.”-       Three Musketeers (Maybe…or?)Tucked ...

15 likes 3 comments 3
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Byrd Station

Submitted to Contest #232

May 11, 1964, Byrd Station, Antarctica, first day of the polar night.The harsh wind bit into every exposed inch of Thomas Mitchell’s skin as he stood on the edge of the station platform, looking out at the vast expanse of snow and ice in the dark. The station’s creaky metal flag, adorned with the American stars and stripes, flapped vigorously in the icy gusts, producing a rhythmic clicking sound.“Headed to the drilling site, Tom?” Called out Dr. Eleanor Martinez, the station’s chief geologist, as she made her way towards him. She was a stout...

13 likes 0 comments 0
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I wish I was a Narwhal

Submitted to Contest #232

I wish I was a Narwhal. Swimming effortlessly through the cold Arctic waters. Listening to the ocean sounds peaceful in my Unicorn bliss. Greeting each day with endless moonlight . Enjoying the shortness of days through blue colored glass glancing up to the heavens glittered in stars. Great wonderment filling my soul each day unincumbered by humanity.Oh, I wish I was a Narwhal, born with a smile on my rubbery face. I would create a life long pod filled with loyal friends with whom I would face each day together fearlessly. We would be far aw...

12 likes 8 comments 8
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A Polar Night

Submitted to Contest #232

Pulling your scarf tight above the bridge of your nose, you brace for the flurry of winter snow as you exit the office door.  The light dusting of frosted powder that had accompanied you to work this morning had morphed into a full-on blizzard by lunch, and even though there had been a half-hearted attempt to usher everyone out of the building by 2 pm, less than half of the workforce had taken management up on the offer.  The first crunch beneath your feet makes you regret staying late. The buses and trains had all been cancelled...

12 likes 1 comment 1
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The Night is Dark

Submitted to Contest #232

The world outside the cabin remained dull. Lit up only vaguely by a faint, dark blue tinge of night light, the sky is a solid blanket above him. Not even the moon is visible. The snow supersedes it all as it falls, but that’s not why he is staring out of the window. The screams are saying his name. Hamish. That’s what they call. Out in the thick pines, branches dipping with the snow they’ve caught and collected, holding to it with bald faced greed much as he holds his rifle, his repeater. Hamish. He steps back from the window, letting the cu...

12 likes 0 comments 0
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It’s A Long Walk To Nunavut

Submitted to Contest #232

“Put your safety glasses on,” Dr. Carter Eubanks cautions. “We’re seventy miles away from the blast site. There’s still a possibility of going blind?” researcher Hugh Hansen asks. “We don’t know yet. That’s one of the reasons we’re here,” Carter replies. Brenda Byrd puts on her protective glasses. “How did you get through research training without reading any source materials?” “CliffsNotes.” “Well, there’s no cheat sheet for a bomb that can generate heat twenty thousand times hotter than the surface of the sun.” Hugh looks at the row...

12 likes 4 comments 4
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JOE AND THE GRIZZLY

Submitted to Contest #232

JOE AND THE GRIZZLY They threw themselves off the horizon’s precipice that year. Two tenacious tenderfoots left their genteel societies to cross the 60th parallel with dreams of unbridled wealth and power. They pushed against the biting winds, fur-covered heads collapsed, pulling overloaded sleds across acres of blowing snow while aurora borealis chandeliers lit their path. Every sunless day could easily have been their last. Bill Smythe and Joe Campbell made the life-threatening expedition up the British Columbian coast with one ton eac...

12 likes 0 comments 0
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Saving sparrows in Antartica

Submitted to Contest #232

Saving sparrows in Antarctica My little sparrow keeps score of how many dolphins she sees, slicing through the waves, guiding us like sentinels on our mission through the worst seas. She keeps score of how many albatrosses sweep around the bridge of the ship, tracing halos in the sky. She keeps score of how many sparrows hitch a ride on board, singing blessings of relief. But a sailor tells us they will never make it this far away from land. So each day, the count becomes less. Each day, the numbers fall. We see land without the su...

11 likes 1 comment 1
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Game of Planets

Submitted to Contest #232

Polar Night. A three-month tournament of planets, ice and magic. Altrus had finished the first game: the Mercury-themed find-a-clue, which would have been babyish if it didn’t end in the possible death of a polar bear. To the inhabitants of the North Ice, polar bears represented resilience and might and as such were held as sacred. “Easy.” Altrus smiled confidently, knowing that his mind was sharp enough to pass the contest without much problem. Alina laughed. “For you.” She creased her eyes into half-moons, then gave him a little smirk. “No...

11 likes 0 comments 0
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