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Weekly Contest #129
Zoey stared forlornly at the frost-tinted window she sat in front of, watching the swirling tufts of snow dance in tune to the sorrowful sounds of the winds. She sighed dramatically and placed her hand on the window, the cold glass biting her hand. Oh what tragedy, to be trapped in this log prison, unable to go out and fly down those fluffy slopes that were just a distant shape behind the howling storm. She watched the scenery outside for a while, green eyes and bright frizzy red hair reflected in the glass.The fireplace in ...
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