My inner-child came out to play. This was supposed to be the staging of a fond winter childhood memory; instead, as I looked up to the sky, my heart drifted to carefree days.
The snow fell gently to my cheeks, getting caught in my eyelashes and melted on my lips. I breathed in the moist fresh scent of the cedar trees and allowed the snow beneath me to craddle my body.
It was indeed, a winter kiss.
Just beautiful, Ginette--what a perfect snow angel.
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