A/N: Oh boy, have I got some explaining to do. So, yes, I haven't posted a story since before Valentine's day and I'm just posting one now, and I am so sorry that this took so long, especially for such a short story. I have just been astronomically busy with academics as spring break is around the corner and dealing with some mental health troubles gave me writer's block. I apologize for this having taken forever and I promise you that I'll try to get some more chapters and stories up once Spring Break clears some free time for me.
Number 12-Recommended by: Goldsaddletank
It was a wispy winter evening in the Blue Mountain Quarry, and Sir Handel and Peter Sam were just finishing up their last few jobs for the day. A breeze washed over them, and Sir Handel audibly shivered.
"Blimey! I swear, it gets colder and colder every day!" He complained. Peter Sam smiled.
"It is November after all," Peter Sam said. He looked up at the sky. "Oh, I do hope it snows!"
"I don't." Said Sir Handel. "I hate the snow. It's cold and wet and miserable."
"You didn't use to hate snow, you used to love it just as much as I do when you were younger." Peter Sam argued.
"Well, I don't like it now." Sir Handel said. Peter Sam rolled his eyes but still smiled.
"I still hope it does. I've been waiting all winter for snow." Peter Sam said hopefully. Sir Handel scoffed.
"You're weird." Sir Handel mumbled, heading back to his shed. Peter Sam sighed, and followed behind. It was almost as chilly in the sheds as it had been out on the rails, exposed to the air, but the engines supposed it'd be better than sleeping out in the cold with nothing. Peter Sam grew weary and was asleep before he even realized.
It was very dark when Peter Sam opened his eyes. Was it morning already? No, even for winter, it was far too dark to be a reasonable time to be awake, something else had woken him up. Peter Sam blinked his blurry eyes and just barely made out small, almost weightless objects floating and twirling down from the sky. Snow! A snowflake landed on his face and Peter Sam grinned excitedly, it hadn't snowed in ages!
"Sir Handel, Sir Handel!" Peter Sam whispered excitedly. "Wake up! Wake up! It's snowing! It's finally snowing."
Sir Handel, who, from the sound of his snores, had been sleeping very heavily, groaned and slowly blinked open his eyes.
"Wh-What?" He mumbled.
"It's snowing!"
"What time is it?" Sir Handel moaned, looking around. "Peter Sam, it's two o' clock in the morning…"
Peter Sam didn't pay any mind, and simply chuckled as his grumpy and tired brother went back to sleep.