Patter and hiss.
Padding home over the snow and under the ice falling from the leading edge of a coming storm, I was back on the white beach of old summers, working my legs by fighting for footholds in the sands the nearest waves could not reach.
Padding home over the snow and under the ice falling from the leading edge of a coming storm, I was back on the white beach of old summers, working my legs by fighting for footholds in the sands the nearest waves could not reach.