Freya writes fiction and fantasy for children of all age groups and genres.

Snow covered the rocky dirt road and the trees glittered white, the black coal dust that usually smothered the town, chased away by winter. The train tracks, now coated with a sugar fine dusting of white, looked magical. Not like the usual cold, hard lines of steel that lead to the coal mine where Pa worked. It hid the ugliness of winter and made my mouth water, imagining myself in the middle of it.
I rubbed away the frost and wiped the wetness on my pajamas—my soul itching to get outside. The snow was perfect for running through, building a snowman, and building an arsenal of snowballs. Lookout neighbors!
Snowflakes fell as breakfast came and went, but Pa didn’t show. His was late, according to my pocket-watch. I thought he must be working late again. Christmas was nearly here. Pa wanted a big payday. Pulling on my heavy coat and galoshes, I headed out the door and down the porch steps to watch for him in the cold wonderland.
I played outdoors all day. When Pa didn’t come home, I run up to my room to watch from the window. I took out my watch that he’d given me for my last birthday. It fit into the palm of my hand perfectly. The watch hands crawled slowly around the shiny gold rim—coming alive in the moonlight. He’d be here any minute. I wrapped a blanket around my cold shoulders and sit by the window, gazing through the snow and feeling my heart thump with every passing minute. The house was always warmer when Pa was there—and not quite as dark. The outside looked shadowy and as smooth as vanilla ice cream. I could barely make-out the road and train tracks beneath the frozen layers of snow—like bones of cold steel.