The water is cold. The water is so cold that it has ice towering upwards at its bottom. Water getting colder and colder every moment has in a way bred the ice. The ice is water’s child. The water loves this ice of hers. She knows once she is cold enough she will no more be herself all she’ll be is ice, yet she love it and though for her entire life she has been 'something’ as boundless as the sky, this freezing is in some way refreshing for her. In fact she is breathing through the cold, she is evolving….Now, comes the fire, and the ice has melted, all she is left with is water within water.
There is chilling wind outside; the wind is the reason for the cold. The wind is the reason why the water had ice. And from, where did the fire come? The answer is it never came... it is the candle next to the container, the shelter of water. It had brought the warmth... And the water? She lost her ice. Now she is happy being water again, she thinks the ice was too binding, she has loved her freedom and once she has got it back she loves it again. She is tickled by the outside wind...She is afraid. She thinks she may breed ice again, but now Mary, the maid, comes. She has put a cover over the container. There is darkness over the water. The water jumps and tries to peep through the cover. All that happens is the droplets spill here and there. The first thing the water has seen once her cover has been taken off is a crying Mary over the portrait of her late husband George.
The water is still for the time, as it is witnessing Mary singing in sorrow while she is baking a cake. Maybe in the memory of George. Maybe George loved cake while he was here among mortals. Maybe his soul will find some peace once the cake is offered. Maybe…
The Owen is set. Mary has left the room. It is just the water now...All alone again. Mary is out in the night she is looking at a bat quite dearly...The water is witnessing all this.
A hoot of an owl presently has attracted Mary, the water is curious too. It seems the owl is speaking a language that both Mary and the water understand. Mary is now following a firefly that has just has flown in the room. The water is still. Mary is restless. It looks like the owl has commanded Mary to follow the fly. The water looks outside the window and the moon seems to be speaking as well.
The moonlight is gleaming on the gun that is lying bare on a crooked sheet of rusty metal. Mary has taken up the gun; she is now looking at the wind chimes. They make no noise. The wind must have died. There will be no cold. No ice. It must be relieving for the water.
Mary has put the water on flame. The water is feeling her soul rising in the air. She is feeling her soul to be one with the soul of the wind. She is about to witness her own heaven, her own God.