Air In The Jar.

The pink-faced girl of four years grips her peanut butter jar. She opens her mouth, in hopes of a chilly flake (not a CHILLI flake) landing on her pink tongue. She is bundled in a bright yellow parka, two pairs of jeans and the ugly brown gumboots that had been forced onto her feet by her distressed mother.

It is winter again, and she has yet to experience snow. Her nose feels numb; frozen, even. Her striped beanie covers half her huge round eyes and her pink lips are chapped.

She hears a voice; calling her name. Come back in, the voice hollers. It's too cold.

The wind only carries the voice away, letting only a whisper reach the little girl's ears. She ignores the beckoning and continues staring at the clear sky, willing it to snow.

She unscrews the lid of the jar, anticipating a snowflake anytime now. Her precious jar almost slips from her mittened hands, and she hastily grasps it firmly.

The voice calls again. 'Come back in! It is too cold out there!'

Admitting defeat, she trudges home, feet crunching on barren soil. She trips over a tiny rock and lands heavily on the ground. Sobbing quietly, she stays there for a moment. She rubs her nose, warming it slightly.

Suddenly she feels a drop of something on her face. A slight cold drop on her warm nose. She reaches up to touch it. Her mitten comes away, damp.

She looks up, filled with hope. The sky remained clear as ever. She sighs. Maybe it was only her imagination.

Before she stands, she checks her jar one last time. A miniscule white flake sits gently on the bottom of the jar.

She smiles.

At least there isn't only just air in the jar. 

Here is a silly face.