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Weekly Contest #58
The fresh morning frost crunched under the boy’s feet as he strolled across the cemetery. Sharp daggers of light blinding him as they bounced off the glistening surface. He didn’t care, he was happy today. He always loved the winter sun, something about it seemed warmer than even the hottest day of summer, it was cosy. I miss that feeling the boy thought, reminiscing.Snow was in the air; the sky, a fresh clean sheet of white, immaculate. The temperature turned up a notch despite the bitter frost. Your grandma would say she could feel it in h...
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