I love you, the way I love the snow. Some people think of reasons to hate it, but I can’t help but love it. Most people hate to shovel snow. It’s not my favorite thing to do, but I don’t hate it. I hear my neighbors say “I have to go shovel.” You don’t have to. You choose too. I don’t mind picking up a shovel and going out in the cold to move snow around. Sure it may be hard work and cold outside, but I see it as a chance to spend time thinking. Most people are annoyed when roads are icy. I will admit that sometimes you can get off course. You may crash against someone or vice-versa.

All right, here's a short story. I'm not much for sad ones, but this one is sad. Well, it is to me. Make what you will of the ending. I don't like sad endings...I left it open to interpretation.* Let me know your thoughts.

Gradually, the crowd silenced, sensing that Aslan wanted to speak.
His eyes seemed sad. “We must move from this place at once, it will be used for other purposes.” His eyes grew even sadder. “We shall encamp tonight at the Fords of Beruna.”
Once again, the crowd cheered and began to make preparations for the brief journey.

It’s so unfair. They don’t even notice how sad Aslan is, I thought with contempt.

I would love to hear your thoughts/advice!

Collecting Hearts

You ran here and there
Probably most everywhere
With your calculating cool
Your Jar of Hearts was almost full

You smiled once, maybe twice
No one did it ere grace thrice
Never breaking your one rule
Your Jar of Hearts was almost full

You always claimed to care
But never did you truly dare
You were taught that in school
Your Jar of Hearts was almost full

(This poem tells a story of a girl who works as a slave at a wealthy but evil household. They make her life a living hell. So she decides to escape, but not before taking her revenge. The "silver cage" refers to her environment. Beautiful house, gorgeous garden, amazing art on the walls and all that jazz. But she is dying to escape.)

As the ivory white tiles glowed
The cashmere curtains fluttered
In the ghastly winter wind that blew
The fragile maids' teeth chattered

Blaine didn’t come back till a while later, even though my conversation with my parents was brief. We all started crying at the same time and couldn’t say much, so my dad just assured me that they would be there soon and that they loved me.
It was all okay though, because he came bearing gifts of the hot caramel macchiato kind. He smiled at me, appearing amused, probably because the look on my face was priceless.
“I made them give you extra whip. I asked the doctor if it was okay for you to have some, and he said yeah.”

*A/N* I had a burst of inspiration! Enjoy :)

Scarlet frantically rushed around the battle field. "Gaelen!?" She cried into the darkness, no response. "Gaelen!?" She called again. It had been three hours, three lonely, awful hours. The sun was just barely under the horizon, filling the field with an eerie, blue light.  "Gaelen!" Scarlet sobbed "Dear God, please don't let him be dead!" She whispered between tears. She looked around her feet. Hundreds of bodies lay everywhere and the blood flowed like a stream.

Caleb Olastar could hear his own breath. It was so quiet in the underground basement that served as headquarters for the Resistance. The Council all stared at him, bewildered that this little red haired hacker wanted to execute such an audacious idea. After about five minutes of pondering on the Council's part, the Headmaster spoke,

"Well then, would you think the benefits outwheigh the costs if this plan were put into action?"

Chapter Three

Since I was now awake again, I might as well hurry and help with supper.

“Mom,” I said rushing headlong into the kitchen, where I was greeted with my whole family sitting at the table eating.  "Why, I thought it wasn’t even suppertime yet!” I said confusedly, "I was out in the swing reading my book when I fell asleep. I’m sorry that I couldn’t help you prepare supper and that I lost track of the time.”