Frost glistened all around. The gravel beneath our feet crunched as we hurriedly walked. Our breath appeared solid against the darkness around us.
The bright Moon shone in the sky. Almost black, apart from the thousands of stars that twinkled above.
We could see our destination ahead, at the end of the cobbled street. The lights were still on. Good, we thought. The shop’s still open.
Then darkness.
We were too late.
We heard the bell above the door jingle, and watched as the lady locked the door and walked away.
No worries, we heard. There’s still time before December.
The Mansionic Perspective 
Would you like to leave a comment?