A strange phenomenon was known to the town of Burgess. On a quiet street, not at all different from the other neighborhoods of the small town, there existed the Bennett house. The house itself was not the remarkable thing. The remarkable thing about the Bennett house was the weather. It would often snow there, even if it was snowing nowhere else in town, even if there were no clouds. No one really knew why, but over the last 8 years many had just come to accept it as one of the odd traits of the town; a quirk that made their lives more interesting.
Today was an average winter day: the air was chill, the sky was clear, and the sun cast its light over the town, but did nothing to chase away the cold. Today would also find itself to be one of those odd days at the Bennett home. Snow cascaded lightly, powdering the front yard in a thin layer that glistened happily in the afternoon light.
A lanky, white haired boy hung upside down from a tree branch in the Bennett front yard. He swung himself back and forth slowly as he hung there, a peculiar staff held in his hand. Jack Frost’s blue hoodie hood dragged the ground and gravity dragged the hem a bit, exposing a bit of his pale belly. He appeared to quite at his leisure there, as if this was not at all out of the norm.
Jack had used his peculiar winter magic to pile a large snow pile ahead of him on every forward swing. The look on the boy’s face could not have said “bored” more plainly than it did. The white haired boy was waiting for his best friend in the world, Jamie Bennett, to arrive home. This had become a ritual for Jack every winter since he’d met Jamie. While Jack always looked forward to seeing Jamie, he hated the idle time of waiting.