First impression
After dinner, we slowly migrated to the living room, each of us cradling warm mugs of cider. The scent of apples and cloves mingled with the faint woodsmoke from the fire, now burning low in the hearth. Outside, the windows reflected only blackness and frost, but inside, the room glowed - golden light flickering across relaxed faces, woolen socks curled up beneath us, laughter lingering in the beams of the ceiling. Arthur was the first to speak. “Alright,” he said, holding his mug like a scepter. “We’ve been here almost a week. What was everyone’s favorite part of the trip?” Voices leapt out all at once. “The sledding!” someone called. “No, the skating, definitely.” “Pie. Don’t forget the pie.” “The dancing!” Hannah added, raising her cider. Abraham gave a satisfied sigh. “Ice skat
- Writer
