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Start or end your story with “It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark.” (From Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Little Match Girl”)

Posted in Winter on Dec 19, 2025

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✍️ 38 stories

This Is Not Your Winter

Submitted to Contest #334

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. The mountains were white like the skin of the invaders, those who forced the last of us to run into this weather of death.Better that Pachamama take us herself than let the land thieves claim us.Antisuyu was not a land for my people. We have lived in Omagua since Pachamama created us.We swim in rivers, we climb trees, we gather the fruits of the jungle.We carry the heat of the forest in our bodies.We are not like the people of Antisuyu.Yet they are still alive, the white snow...

22 likes 6 comments 6
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The bear

Submitted to Contest #334

“Here catch!” Jasper said with strength in his voice as the wind swirled around them, and it bounced around the clear blue glaciers. “It was so terribly cold.” snow was falling, and it was was almost dark. The snow was whipping up as if she were in a snow globe, her head ahead, making sure the path was safe enough to climb. As she dropped the rope to Kelley in her purple jumpsuit, her goggles fogged up as she stood on a small ledge, her hands shivering even through her heavy-duty gloves, with plenty of experience ice climbing, but never in t...

20 likes 4 comments 4
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A Burning Question

Submitted to Contest #334

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. Water was bleeding through the canvas of my sneakers, soaking my socks. One step at a time, my legs labored through the suffocating blanket of fresh snow. It had been about 1,200 steps since I had last heard the voices trailing behind me. Their grasp loosened the further I got away from the cabin. My memories were slowly returning to me in a haze, like your vision might after standing up too quickly.What I remembered first was why I was running. Exactly what about those voice...

17 likes 6 comments 6
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The Humble Fir Tree

Submitted to Contest #334

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark.The snow lay thick upon the ground, and the forest stood silent beneath it, as though wrapped in a great white shawl. The sky was pale and heavy, and the air so sharp that even the trees seemed to shiver. Snowflakes drifted down slowly, one by one, settling upon needles and branches, upon stones and sleeping roots. The wind moved softly among the fir trees, whispering to them as if sharing an old secret, and the icicles hanging from their boughs glittered like tiny crystal bel...

16 likes 2 comments 2
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Godfrey and the Dragon

Submitted to Contest #334

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. Their breath clouded the air, the ground crackled as they walked towards the cave. Sir Jonah crouched low, and motioned for the others to do as well. No telling what lay in wait for them. No telling at all.“Father, do you have the torch ready?” Sir Jonah hissed back at the priest.The priest fumbled in his sack, first pulling out the counting device that Pope Sylvester commanded him to take along to give to the Bishop of Samiarland. The priest cursed under his breath, and then...

13 likes 4 comments 4
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Requiem of The Fox

Submitted to Contest #334

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. Death hauled her by the ankles as she suffocated on the luminous depths of the sea. Water collapsed her lungs as if they were the thin walls of a wet paper boat. She woke from her own wretched screaming, her nightgown clung to her clammy legs. Marta couldn’t return to slumber. By sunrise, they discovered Anton’s body had washed ashore, along with Ube, the old widow’s grandson. They lay mangled from the waves. Anton had been teaching Ube to fish after his parents' passing. Mar...

12 likes 7 comments 7
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Mama, Don't Go

Submitted to Contest #334

Beijing’s lanes stretched astonishingly wide, overwhelming most pedestrians. Crossing from one side to the other took nearly ten minutes. From the overpass, you might be captivated by the grandeur, but also unsettled by its menace. Gazing into the torrent of cars racing across eight lanes could leave you dizzy. At night, when every headlight blazed, the city glowed as bright as day. Only days ago, a man hung himself on this very overpass. Remembering the news, I shivered. The last bus pulled into the station and I sprinted toward it. When ...

11 likes 10 comments 10
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Almost Dark

Submitted to Contest #334

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark.Two men stood among the trees and did not move. They had been taught not to move. They had been taught that the body was a betrayer. A foot that shifted, a sleeve that brushed a branch, a breath let out too hard. Each small thing could become a beacon.The taller man shifted anyway, once, a slow change of weight that left a faint crunch. He did it because his feet were going numb and he did not want to fall like a drunk in front of someone.The other man, the one nearer the hut,...

11 likes 2 comments 2
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The Lantern Thief

Submitted to Contest #334

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. Every night, without warning, a flame would vanish. Not flicker. Not sputter. Just—gone.The lanterns along the streets swung in their iron brackets, flames dancing like tiny, desperate wings.Mara’s lantern outside our house had gone dark, leaving the doorway swallowed in half-shadow. Her hands rested on her swollen belly, jaw tight with frustration.“Not again,” she said, worry threading her voice. “Third time this week.”“I know,” I muttered, resentful of having to brave the c...

10 likes 2 comments 2
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The Little Match-Dweller

Submitted to Contest #334

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. This would not have been trouble, had the flower pot not been knocked from the sill.The culprit, a child, gazed regretfully at their blunder, then flung out the food trimmings into the street. They departed from view with a fwump from the window. A few moments later, a scowling old cricket emerged from the dirt that lay scattered in the snow. He stared with displeasure at the broken shards of clay.Mr. Cricket, you see, had been nestled in that pot, where he intended to sleep ...

10 likes 1 comment 1
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The Last Cold Day

Submitted to Contest #334

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. I could hear the trees cracking in the opening ahead of me. The snow fell slowly onto my face, melting into cold streams that ran down my cheeks, leaving behind a sting as the air kissed me. I stood over the fresh dirt of my mother's grave. Everyone else had left for a family member’s house to laugh, cry, and tell stories, both good and bad, of my mother.“Come, burden us,” a scratchy whisper came from the woods at the edge of the cemetery. I was unsure if it was the cold wind...

10 likes 5 comments 5
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Howling Winds

Submitted to Contest #334

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. The shadows of the woods crept closer, drinking up what little guttering flame of lamplight I had to light my way, and the chill that prowled between the trees licked across my nose and cheeks and blew about my heavy cloak. Still, I walked. If I were to stop, I would surely succumb to this dead of winter cold. Come the spring thaw I would be nothing but carrion for the critters that fed upon the festering dead. My mother might never learn what had become of me.The first time ...

10 likes 1 comment 1
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The Last Walk

Submitted to Contest #334

Alice stepped outside as the sky dimmed to that uncertain hour when afternoon surrendered to winter night. The cold struck her at once. She paused on the threshold of her doorstep to draw her scarf higher, though she could not remember when she had begun wearing one or where it had come from.A man’s coat lay folded over her arm. It was made of heavy navy wool, the kind that held its shape even when unworn. She had meant to return it sooner. Weeks ago, perhaps longer. It felt impolite to keep something that wasn’t hers, even if no one had com...

9 likes 1 comment 1
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THREE FLAMES

Submitted to Contest #334

She lights the candle before I’ve even finished my coffee.I watch her do it—pull the match, touch it to the wick, shake it out—without once looking at what she’s doing. Like breathing. Like something so automatic it doesn’t require attention.Vanilla-scented. The label says something about self-care or serenity. One of those words that didn’t used to need saying.She sets it on the table between us and goes back to her laptop. Doesn’t glance at it again. The flame just burns there, unwatched, doing nothing.“What’s that for?” I ask.She looks up...

9 likes 0 comments 0
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Once Upon a Time, I Learned What Stories Are For

Submitted to Contest #334

　I was never meant to survive the box. Matches are made to disappear. We are counted, spent, and forgotten. A success is measured in light, not duration. Burn well, burn fast, make room for the next. That is the arithmetic of usefulness, and we are very good at it. That is how stories usually begin for objects like me, briefly, efficiently, and without a voice. We exist to be used up. We do not expect witnesses. But this is a fairy tale, and fairy tales are crowded with things that last longer than they were designed to, things that learn to...

8 likes 1 comment 1
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