Billy always dragged me outside to build a snowman after the first decent snowfall.
He would be over the excitement in a few months, moaning instead for snow melt and sunshine.
I placated him, but I only did it for the hot chocolate Mom made.
The light was fading, and Billy had just put the black button eyes on the snowman.
I looked over to see those black buttons tracking me.
I’d been playing too many virtual reality games, for snowman eyes don’t move.
Mom called. Billy ran off.
I felt a gloved hand gently touch my hair.
The Tiny Library 