. . . am inside

. . . It’s like stepping into an old-fashioned novel to hear from the other room all their laughing voices, the games of charades and piano playing, or to watch them flying down the hill on sleds over and over, groups sneaking up behind another group with their hands full of snowballs. . . .

[story]

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: