I am sweating inside but my ears are red cold. Under a snow-grey sky, wine-red raspberry vines whine against each other like when the bow first touches the violin strings. Black birds whirl above as we press first footprints into squeaking snow, trudging up the hill, to settle in our sleds, bouncing over little mounds, snow flying in our faces, twisting around and tumbling out, laughing the whole way at our success or upset before dragging our sleds back up to try again.
she was wearing the strangest overcoat he’d ever seen. it shone in the fading evening light, shimmers of red and gold and the soft pink of sunset. it could have given its own ethereal light, but for the forlorn look of the woman wearing it.
I am sweating inside but my ears are red cold. Under a snow-grey sky, wine-red raspberry vines whine against each other like when the bow first touches the violin strings. Black birds whirl above as we press first footprints into squeaking snow, trudging up the hill, to settle in our sleds, bouncing over little mounds, snow flying in our faces, twisting around and tumbling out, laughing the whole way at our success or upset before dragging our sleds back up to try again.
she was wearing the strangest overcoat he’d ever seen. it shone in the fading evening light, shimmers of red and gold and the soft pink of sunset. it could have given its own ethereal light, but for the forlorn look of the woman wearing it.