Flash fiction entry, 298 words
| The blizzard had turned to an ice storm in its final hours, topping our blanket of deep snow with a crust of ice. I could walk atop it as I followed Mom and Dad to the grocery store around the block...there would be no getting the car out in this. The story of the "Great Blizzard", would be told for decades, but now was the time for digging out and playing.
Mom wasn't pleased to be out in the freezing wind, but she still smiled as I explored. She knew I would rather be out playing with my friends and building snow forts on our dead-end street. Other girls my age might be inside having tea parties with their dolls, but dolls were dull to me. I imagined invading ice dragons diving from the winter sun, and ancient cities buried in glaciers.
In the store, we found the ingredients for Mom's potato pancakes quickly. A box of hot chocolate was added, my reward for helping with the groceries. Our return trip was slower, but when we turned onto our street again we saw a tremendous pile of plowed snow was shoved up against the tree at the end of the street...right outside our front door. The promise of good food and an even better dessert was nearly forgotten in my excitement. Mom, seeing a glint in my eye we would laugh over in later years, plucked the paper grocery sack out of my arms so I could rush off to study the small mountain of snow. The plows had left it a little dirty, but in my mind it was a glacier that concealed a city, and a hundred adventures waited within.
Tea parties with dolls could wait; even hot chocolate could wait. The ice dragons were coming.