Sia brought him an umbrella to shade him from the sun, but she knew it was a losing battle. The snow was melting. The red scarf was getting damp.
“Don't cry,” he seemed to say, his snowy breath misting in the air, “just know that I’ll be here forever.” SiaВ Snowman
“Come with me,” the Snowman seemed to whisper. “Let’s go where the snow never melts.” Sia brought him an umbrella to shade him
Sia loved him, but she knew the secret of winter—it never lasts. “Don't cry,” he seemed to say, his snowy
In the quiet, icy silence of the backyard, Sia built him. He wasn't just any snowman; he was fashioned from the purest, softest snow of the season, with eyes made of black coal that seemed to sparkle with a quiet mischief and a long, orange carrot nose. She wrapped her own red woolen scarf around his neck and whispered a promise: "Don't ever leave me, Snowman."
He knew they couldn't stay. He looked at her one last time, his smile slightly crooked as his face started to melt, holding onto the memory of her warmth.