This is an excerpt from the story I have in the "I DO!" anthology in support of marriage equality.
The Snow Queen
We don't get snow much anymore. That makes me sound like some old fogy reminiscing about how the summers were always warmer and better than now. I don't know about the summers. Summer for me meant enforced boredom at some aunt or uncle's house, an unfamiliar garden and the smell of dying grass. But the winters? The old men in London pubs wrap swollen-jointed fingers around their Real Ale and say that kids don't know what cold is. They nod, and take bright brown tobacco from stained tins, wrapping their cheap roll-ups easily without dropping a syllable. You're too young, they tell me – the winters they knew were cold enough to freeze your balls off.