On the darkest evening of the year, I follow the downy-flaked trail out past the village. Between the woods and frozen lake, I locate the dollhouse. My sister can’t drag it any farther. Stopping here, we watch it fill up with snow.
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Beautiful writeup
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Ruby!
DeleteI, of course, now want to know more of this story. I feel as though you could write an entire novel from those sentences!
ReplyDeleteHaha - I could write several lifetimes... Thanks, Tina!
DeleteI loved the final image in this.
ReplyDeleteOhh, thanks for the love, Emily!
DeleteThat poor dollhouse. How sad that it must be left amidst the snow. Lovely imagery here.
ReplyDeleteHmmm, somehow I don't think it'll be left there, Shailaja, don't worry : )
DeleteThank you!
Yes, I want to know more, too. So beautifully visual and mysterious.
ReplyDeleteNice to hear. Thank you so much, Jennifer!
DeleteI'm with Tina and Jennifer. Write more!
ReplyDeleteHehe. Thank you, Candace!!
DeleteKymm, I hope you aren't tired of hearing this, but we need more of this story. So good. The imagery alone!!!!!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Gina!! Never tire of hearing good things : )
Delete