Corithefreakofnature

Screeching children filled the wide front lawn in from of the Victorian era house. The dead grass, frozen from the frost that coated the ground, crunched under booted feet as the small figures of the children ran, trying to catch flakes of the first snow fall of the season in their open mouths. All but three children from the orphanage were outside. Up in the play room, a blonde eight year old, all in black, sat on the arm of a wide couch, munching on a bar of chocolate. When all that was left were the crumbs at the very bottom of the wrinkled foil he scowled, crumpled it up, and lobbed it at a slightly younger red-head a couple of feet away.