Tales Of Corwin

Mark told Sandra his theory, but soon they had more pressing matters to worry about. That day, it had warmed up to just below freezing; the next day, all day long, it snowed heavily. School was dismissed at noon, and by evening most of the roads were impossible. The next morning, Thursday, was the Winter Solstice. Sandra jumped out of bed and looked out the window down Amber street—or rather, down along where Amber street used to be. This morning, the road was not only unplowed, but invisible, completely hidden under wind-carved drifts of snow. She jumped back into bed, pulled up the covers, and snuggled up to Mark. “Blessed Yule!” she said to him. “We’re snowed in!” “Blessed Yule,” repeated Mark. “To be snowed in with you—that’s already as blessed a Yule as I can imagine. And hey—we get presents, too!” They had agreed to exchange presents on Yule, and again on Christmas morning. “Presents after breakfast,” said Sandra. “I’ll make you pancakes; then you can open your present.” “I can think of one present