By Gracie Robert
The bitter wind shook the bells that were attached to the harnesses, filling the evening with melodious chimes. It seemed to mock us as we paced around the red sleigh in anxiety.
“Oh gumdrops, this is bad. This is really, really bad,” I chattered. I could feel the panic swelling in my chest, making my throat burn and itch. The snow coated my eyelashes and dampened my mittens.
Jack, Head Transport Elf, chewed on the end of his CandyCom which had lost signal fifty miles back.