Welcome! Suppose to get some heavy frost tonight so I might have a visit from this fellow. Happy reading and wishing you much sunshine!
Jack Was Here
Flash fiction
He can never sneak away
without not touching something and leaving evidence that he was there.
The urge to touch everything
is just too delicious in his mind. So, with abandonment he touches everything
in the early morning hours when the coldness in the air is just perfect.
With one finger he make
frost dance and skip.
Frosty icicles glimmer in
the morning sun and tiny frosty patterns glitter when the sun hits it.
All his work. His silver
blue eyes shine when he stands back and admires his handy work.
A cold breeze rustles his
white hair threatening to shatter his frosty creations.
He holds up his finger
and tells the breezes to hush.
Soon everything is quiet.
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