For the Carnival Awards:
Chiara Holland is the towns prized girl. Responsible and smart, a total sweetheart. Lance Winslet is supposed to be a proper gentleman, but he's a sarcastic jerk instead.
He soon warms up to Chiara in a way most do. Her spir...
The grassy hills in the summer, had become a field of snow. The first thing the neighbors would do was trudge through the shin deep snow and shovel a path, like any rational adult would.
The snowy field loomed over their close and small town, all blanketed in fresh, powdery snow that sparkled in the daylight. The houses made of wood, and local shacks nestled by the frozen lagoon.
Beyond the small homes, the town was a bright showcase of lights and stores.
The small homes seemed to huddle together, their roofs thickly coated with snow. Each building was simple, made of timber, with smoke rising from the chimneys, a sign of warmth and life inside. Burning coal they'd buy from the blacksmiths to keep warm during the cold months.
Their village was small and close-knit, with little space between homes. The lack of privacy felt comforting; neighbors could easily pop over for a chat or to lend a hand with matters like adjusting window trim or chimney dusting.
Inside, families gathered around coal-burning stoves, enjoying the warmth while outside, the snow continued to fall softly, they could look outside at the childish people who played in the freezing cold on the hill, a smooth surface that was perfect for sledding or making snowmen.
Occasionally, children would venture out, their laughter filling the air as they played in the snow, leaving footprints that quickly filled back in as the flakes fell harder.
As dusk approached, the lights in the windows flickered on, casting a warm glow against the dull white backdrop. The village quieted down, with people settling in for the night, feeling content in their cozy homes, whilst enjoying the peaceful silence that the snow brought.
The crisp, cold air outside mixed with the scent of burning coal and the muffled sounds of laughter and conversation.
That was what most people savoured about winter, but there were 2 fools who would dress warm and snug to venture in the snow together.
Long when the childrens curfew had past, these specific teenagers would run out to the field to play.
Just them alone, as the sun slowly set overhead. Foot prints beneath their soles marked their long endeavours.
The taller one of them both, his hair was a constrast to the snow falling above, black; an ink color which seemed to pop out in the area of white.
His eyes were the color of the frozen lake, an icy blue that always seemed to narrow at everything.
