Prompt #21: Snowman
{183 words}
Aryan might be
twenty one years old now but still rather enjoyed making a good ole snowman by himself. It was one of those calming exercises that did well for his mental health, and let’s just say he had a lot on his mind right now. Not wanting to be a bother to anyone by talking about it, he had draped himself in warm clothing before stepping out into the cold, snowy day.
Of course, there was no greater joy than creating a snowman manually.
Roll, roll, roll went great masses of snow - three in various sizes.
Pat, pat, pat went his gloved hands, whipping them into proper shape.
Stack, stack, stack they went - arranged in huge, medium, small order. The final touches were added: sticks for arms, stones for buttons and Ary’s own old clothing which he had salvaged from his vast wardrobe.
Ary dropped to his bum at the base of the snowman. Together, they gazed out towards the Dragons’ caves and enclosures.
“Nice view, isn’t it?”
Was the question directed to his new friend?
Maybe.
Would it reply?
Who knew?