Transfixed
“You alright?”
“I’ve never seen anything like this!” Wren gasps, twirling around like some little ballerina. “It’s so white… what is it?”
“Snow.”
“Snow? Like the black stuff that falls from the sky sometimes?”
“Black stuff… are you not thinking of ash?”
“Nah, Mum says it’s snow. Says it’s too evil where I’m from for it to be white. That’s why I’m here.”
“So is winter cold?”
“Hm? Nah.” She gazed up at the sky, wonder written clear as day upon her face. “It’s maybe a little more windy, but it’s not cold.”
“Honestly, are you from hell?”
“I hope not.”
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