Sapphire waters shimmered like the diamond in Tiffany’s platinum ring. She leaned into Dustin at the railing of the cruise ship, Arctic Memories. Honeymooners. Where sea ice once blocked ships from northern passage, oil platforms rose like gritty icebergs. The ship maneuvered the wells and land came into sight.
“Can you believe how green it is?” Tiffany scanned the black shore rock with its verdurous covering. Baffin, once grid-locked in glaciers was the new “Emerald Isle” of the north.
“Trees and seeds were the generous gift of Optimum Oil after the big melt.” Dustin worked for the company and was taking his bride to the nouveau tourist destination of the Arctic.
“I can’t wait to see The Igloo.” Tiffany had studied art in college and The Igloo was her favorite architectural feat. It housed a casino draped in concrete white-washed like ones natives once built of snow.
Her professor had proclaimed, “Economic benefits from melting ice—tourism, trade, hydrocarbons—are grafted into one sweeping sculpture as a monument to man’s potential.”
Tiffany ignored the homeless Inuit loafing at the dock. She marveled at the shadow cast by art and economics beneath an ever warming sun.
The Igloo by Charli Mills is prompted and linked to Short Story & Flash Fiction Society Flash Fiction Contest #1.