A Touch of Holly

John Cowgill's Literature Site

Five feet of snow had fallen outside, and the snow was still falling.  We were in cabin out in the woods of Upstate New York.  I was sitting on the couch looking out the front window with a lovely redhead lady named Holly.  We could hear the cold winds blowing hard against the house.

“It looks like we are stuck here for a long while,” I said.

“I don’t want to stay here for days,” Holly complained.  “I want to go to the beach and put my toes in the sand.”

“I know,” I told her, “but the weather is going to be like this for a long while.  The snow is not melting anytime soon.  We are stuck here.”

Holly began to contemplate.  As she sat on the couch in her gray sweatshirt, blue jeans and fuzzy hat with her bare feet on the coffee table, she glanced outside…

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