WOW: snow. Extra challenge: end of the world fics or happy to be alive fics.

The lovely Enkidu smells a quadruple drabble ... who am I to argue? In fact, I decided to go one better, so seeing as it's Christmas, here we go with a story in five individual drabbles.

Did the mayans really foresee the end of days when their calendar stopped at 21st December 2012? Or was there some other perfectly logical reason?

Disclaimer: Given that I don't appear to be dead, I'm guessing the world never ended after all. Therefore, the need to legally protect myself continues. So, I don't own them, right?

Chapter 1


Venezuela, 300 A.D.

The elderly stonemason stood before his masterpiece.

Ichik was old, very old; his skin wizened to leather under the sun's relentless rays and his bones now brittle as snowflakes bearing the weight of his years.

His entire working life had been spent on this enterprise; a calendar reaching centuries into the future. Soon, the great sky-god would take him to his eternal rest, then his son would take over the work, but thanks to his industrious life, Ichik's family name would endure; as through the centuries to come, the pulse of mayan life would beat according to his calendar.