There was once a small town that
sat on the edge of Glacier Lake, and on the other side of Iceberg Canyon. The
white snowflakes seemed to drop down every moment of every day. A place where
Christmas Eve glowed every night and Christmas Day was born again every
morning. Where piles of wishes appeared on the imprints of snowflakes.
Snowy Harbor was just down the
road from the North Pole. It was South of the North and North of the East. If
you didn’t have your magic compass boy did you get lost! Santa’s workshop
spilled out all the faulty toys into the village, a refuge if you will of the
toys who needed a little extra believing in.
On the rooftop of Snowflake Manor
sat a young boy named KJ. At the edge of town his father Frosty Jingle had
built Snowflake Manor when he was just a young idea in his mother Sparkle’s
memory. The town was divided down the middle; believers to the right
non-believers to the left. The believers
eventually hoping we drift off into the canyon, never to be heard from again.
No comments:
Post a Comment