One word prompt: Snow 03/1/2015
The long winding row of houses down Otter Street where not identical in any way, shape or form. Landscapes littered the rocky road. Tree's lined the sides of the street, covering several wooden houses from view.
From the intersection of Wolf Street and Otter Street, you'd take a right, and walk a little while, until you see a big blue house, with dark red shingling. Number 223. It didn't particularly stick out, nor blend in. It had been perfect. Every Christmas spent in this very house was so special.
It was December 24th. Summer didn't say she'd go home for Christmas. The house didn't even belong to her family anymore. Now she lived in a little white house on Squirrel Street, number 340. She couldn't even go there, because the one who owned it, her sister, had decided to stay at Hogwarts and spend Christmas with her boyfriend.
Summer walked down the long street, counting house numbers. 217, 219, 221... Summer stopped outside 223, looking at front of the now snow covered house. She noticed the single tire swing had been taken down from the pine tree that was outside of the blue house. Summer adjusted her scarf, and rubbed her hands together. They where red from the cold. I should have brought gloves.
The snow fell lightly outside, and Summer smiled to herself, catching a snowflake in her hand, thought it melted immediately. Despite her name, she loved the snow. It was cold, true, but it was beautiful as well. She cast once last, long look at the house, before turning back towards Wolf Street, where her magical ride was waiting to take her back to Hogwarts.
