A fist, delicate and lily white, punched out of the snow and smacked Daniel in the nose. He jerked backward, his feet slipped, and he landed on his backside. He looked at the hole in the snow made by the fist and saw Grace’s cherry-red nose poking out of the snowdrift. He suspected his nose was now the same color, and not because of the cold. “Well, it’s certainly nice to see you boys.” Grace smiled and pulled her nose back out of sight.
-Mary Connealy
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