A CHRISTMAS STORY FROM ARIEL
The sky was the colour of old bruises, and even the Christmas lights strung across the streets, and the displays in the shop windows, could not dispel the gloom of the winter day. A thin, bitter wind scoured the streets with its razor edge, sending the litter soaring like grubby birds. Carol drew her scarf up over her chin, and she sighed wistfully, as she gazed at the breathtaking display of pashminas in a shop window. Such incredible colours: and so far beyond her reach. A few paces on, she... Sign in to see full entry.