My breath materializes in front of me, a genieâs smoke spilling out of my mouth, and it asks, âwhat do you want?â
Across the street, a snowmanâs shadow lies limp on the grass. Its carrot has slipped low on his face, the body slouched as if it is grieving.
âWhat do you want?â my breath asks again, the white billows looming over my face.
My hands are frozen, my nose is frozen, my toes are numb s...
