The soft whisper of fern leaves was replaced by the crunching of gravel under his feet as Denim made his way up the steep trail. Sweat broke out on his brow the higher he climbed. He wished he'd taken off his flannel shirt before heading up the mountain.
"How can it be so hot when that is snow?" Ravenna waved her hand at the foot of a glacier merely a few miles away.
"That is really old snow," Denim teased his sister. "It's been cold so long, it's forgotten how to melt."
~ ~ ~
I am pulling the story out bit by bit, wanting to edit, but making myself push out the first draft.
Like the Big Rule in our house -- food first, treats after. Once the first draft is done, I can have the fun of going back in and making it pretty.
:-)
Peace, and have a great weekend!
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