Brian Burt - Speculative Fiction
Okwi Bearheart strolled along the promenade that edged the platform of the floating city of Windigo, invigorated by the morning chill, by the tingle of snowflakes caressing her cheek. Winter hugged the ragged coastline of Isle Royale in swirls of gray and white. From the northeastern corner of Windigo, the smaller islands of Washington, Johns, and Grace danced behind the mist, kissed by whispering waves. In late December on Lake Superior, reality grew fluid. Things melted and morphed and congealed, as capricious as the ancient spirits that sprang from Anishinaabe legend to haunt these waters.
Few chose to come here for a visit, much less to stay. Okwi wouldn't leave until she died. Maybe not even then.
She watched the first faint flurries of the day blow out of the west, sipping strong, hot coffee sweetened with a dab of honey from a well-worn hiking thermos. In the distance, Okwi glimpsed the mouth of Grace Harbor, Rainbow Cove curving to the south of Cumberland Point. From here, the surface of the lake looked calm, peaceful. A deadly deception. Lake Superior excelled at lulling the unwary with a friendly face, but Her mood darkened without warning. Okwi had seen the forecast.
A storm was coming....
This short story is included in the anthology published by World Weaver Press.