Imagine that you have been cold for a very long time, as long as
you can remember. You are in a snowy landscape, but this is not the
pleasant kind of snow of a Thomas Kinkade painting, where hot cocoa
and biscuits beckon from a thatched cottage. This is the frigid,
relentless white of a tundra, and you have been plying it for
miles, passenger on a sledge commandeered by a white witch. If
there is a book in your house called
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
, you may read a longer
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