Andrew Carnegie And The Rise Of Big Business

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A Walk on a Winters Day The world around me was as if I had stepped into a shaken snow globe, as I stuffed Mom's list into the pocket of my corderoys and walked down my front steps. The snowflakes did cartwheels through the frigid air around my pink cheeks and landed gracefully on my lashes and nose. The looming street lights did the best they could to shed their dull light onto the darkening earth, as I quickened my pace, my crunching footsteps echoing my eardrums. The smell of burning wood invaded my nostrils. The bright florescent lights in the distance shone on the powdered pavement ahead. Quickly, the neon sign for Russo's Market came into view, flickering with icicles hanging off it. I opened the glass door and was comforted by a gust of hot, stuffy air. I pulled Mother's list out of my pocket and took my sweet time heading down the aisles.

I paid and hugged the bundles in my arms and headed back out the door, my breath blowing as if I were a fire breathing dragon. I trudged home, my mouth watering, and body tingling thinking about the hot chocolate, marshmallows, and popcorn in front the fire that would be when I made it home.