March 7, 2018

From the kitchen window, Grime Pertwig watched his sisters hard at work in the yard. The chains anchoring him to the wall allowed for an adequate arc of movement. Grime moved in an adequate arc to resume perching on his stool. He had no choice but to await his fate.

‘Pack more lower. Make it fuller,’ said Beequin to Marvania.

Marvania shoveled and tamped a final load of snow. The sisters stepped back to survey their work. They nodded satisfaction, took to their brooms, and shot off into the sky.

The snow lady moved. She glided silently to the kitchen door. The door, untouched, opened. The snow lady slowly turned her head to cast a cold gaze on Grime Pertwig. Grime’s shriek of horror was consumed with the rest of him in a sudden ripping crackle of fiery death. The snow lady returned to the yard and posed majestically.

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