Today’s words are: SNOWFLAKE, FIREPLACE, RUDOLPH.
And my ongoing story…
A few dark spots fluttered out and away from the FIREPLACE, like demonised SNOWFLAKEs on some mystery breeze, settling on Barry’s threadbare carpet, a soft rumbling following after them.
Barry’s hairy ears perked, and he glanced up as he inched his rickety chair back, his old heart beating a little too fast as he eased up on to his feet and skulked behind the chair, as if it could protect him from… whatever was happening.
Feeling safer, he braved a peek, convinced he had half-recognised something, a voice, singing, catching a word here or there, convinced one had been RUDOLPH.