My nose dripped snot as I pounded nails into a wooden frame. My spine ached from hunching and my fingers felt splintered. I was tired, cold, and hadn’t eaten a thing in hours, except for my words. “Just hand me a hammer and nails and I’ll make it happen,” I assured those who heard about the set design idea.
“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know, where the treetops glisten, and children listen to hear sleigh bells in the snow.”
