Icosahedron

Little fingers trace the smooth edges of the icosahedron sitting snugly in the work- bench vice. Incandescent green eyes scrutinize the edges for flaws in the masterpiece. Satisfied she slips off her stool and carries the die to the back patio door. Rain slid gently down the muddied glass as she slips through the opening. The cold tile numbs her feet as she nimbly set to work. Holding the icosahedron firmly she whispers a wish into the rain and cast her lot. The die rolled and came to a stop and she felt a rush as the environment changed about her.
Waves crashed against the shore and bounced the floating docks around as it hungrily ate its fill of incoming energy. Main island lighthouse flashed warning lights as its siren blared loudly to fishing vessels that scrambled to the marina. Wind and wa- ter swirled about the levies and the first crash came through the side as the volunteers filled more sandbags for the cause. A tired old fisherman tightened the knots on the horn cleat and wiped his brow dry. He tasted the heavy salt present in the whole gale that descended upon the small town. Carefully he staggered up the dock to an incline ramp where he saw the green eyed child standing calmly with her face to the storm.
With sadness she turned and looked to the fisherman. “Run home to your family.” She tossed the icosahedron across the sand and the world around her dissolved and she found herself standing in front of an old hospital like building. It smelled musty and The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she picked up her die. The
witch had found her.
“Sit, sit.” The old woman insisted firmly.
Begrudgeokned, she sits in the cold chair.
“Isn’t that better?” The witch smiled.
The girl frowned and stared down at her icosahedron held firmly in her lap.
“Now that we are here,” The witch cooed while sorting the file. “Why don’t you tell
me what you are feeling right now.”

The child still stared down at her lap, so tempted to use it to make her go away. Her shrill voice interrupted her thoughts. “Okay, since you won’t co-operate I will
show you the pictures again.”
The rustle of manila sent a surge of anger and sadness through the girls spine and
she leapt from the chair. The Icosahedron tumbled from her lap and rolled across the dirty clay tile. Quickly she grabbed her die and waited for the world to change.
“What have you done!” The witch screamed.
The girls eyes glowed incandescent green as she held the Icosahedron tightly to
her chest.
The world became the beach again and with sadness she stepped onto the rav-
aged shore, eaten by the storm and stopped briefly before the old fisherman. He was tattered upon the shore like an old rag-doll that was given to the dog pack. She looked away and nimbly danced between the debris and found a good place to cast her new lot. She brushed her long white hair behind her ear and rubbed the Icosahe- dron to warm the wood. She took a deep breath and cast the die.
She stood still upon the shoreline as her lot was cast thoughtfully in the sand. The Icosahedron whirled and hummed before it completely stopped. Small nimble fingers scooped up the die and she observed the numbers and letters that lighted up on its many sides. The landscaped changed and twisted about her as the focus of shapes came and went, she gripped the Icosahedron even tighter afraid to lose it. The world stilled and she found herself on the beach in a different time. She stared at the vessel with her incandescent green eyes and sighed. Cold sand slipped in around her toes as she ventured toward the boat. Deciding to try something different she carefully climbed into the pile of rot and held her lot out. About to cast the die she felt different and caught movement in the shadow of her mind’s eye.

Expertly the wires and mesh bonded and formed together as delicate fingers wove the metal and bone into place. Fervent eyes blinked back beads of sweat that trickled down a furrowed brow, so intent on the creation unfolding within the forge. Blackened tongs unfurled the beasts head as it emerged from the pit and the Icosahe- dron rolled and lay still beneath the creators feet.
“Not yet little one.” As the creatures head was released back into the fire.” I must commend you on finding me so early in your life.” He hissed.
“So few make it this far.” He turned to face her with a toothy grin. Stepping to- wards her, “Don’t worry my child it will all be over soon.”