Walking along Clevedon’s waterfront, I noticed that where shadows lay, ice lingers, while it’s melted away anywhere sun has reached.

I’ve been writing a lot about memory and the act of remembering recently, and it’s almost as though the shadows preserve the memory of frost and ice. The shadow shelters its own mirror image in white.

Can you turn this into a story about memory, or about shelter?

If you write or create something prompted by this idea, please let me know by emailing judydarley (at) iCloud.com. I’d love to know the creative direction you choose.