TWO OF CUPS
Twigs snapped under fur-lined boots crunching in the snow. Our breath slipped between our lips and frosted white as we wandered among the pines. We didn’t need to see our fingers and noses to know they had long turned red...
TWO OF CUPS
Twigs snapped under fur-lined boots crunching in the snow. Our breath slipped between our lips and frosted white as we wandered among the pines. We didn’t need to see our fingers and noses to know they had long turned red...