The little girl held the box of freshly baked Snickerdoodles in her lap. Steam fogged the window, not allowing her to see where today’s journey took her. She drew countless pictures in the condensation; each covered by another layer fog. Her final, a simple heart which she drew lop sided–it made her smile. The car stopped and stepped out of the car. A cool breeze surrounded her and threatened to pierce her thick wool coat. Shaking branches in the bare trees demanded her attention. The old woman’s house sat among the trees down a long winding path.

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