Snow’s falling endlessly, midwinter trees shimmering with ice. The woodcutter struggles through sparkling drifts. Reaches the enchanted wall and swings his axe, glittering shards flying. Everyone says it’s indestructible, but he’s determined to find out what’s on the other side.
Grandma returns the leaky snow globe. Gets a full refund.
Deborah writes at an old desk surrounded by five hundred pet bugs.