Mr Bendy's New Shoes

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The snow had not been falling very long, but already the garden path was covered in a soft, white blanket. The snow flakes were so big that if you listened very carefully, you could hear a tiny hissing sound as the flakes froze together when they reached the ground. It was very, very cold. Mr. Bendy shivered as he opened his door and then stooped down to pick up his bottle of milk from his doorstep, a little annoyed that the birds had already had more than their fair share of the cream. He really did not like snow one little bit: it meant that he would not be able to take his little afternoon stroll, one of the few pleasures he was still able to enjoy. Old age was taking its toll on his body, but his feet, in particular, were extremely painful, and his little bendy legs could only take him a short distance before they became sore as well. However, when the weather permitted, he liked to take the opportunity to shuffle along through the village into Silverbrook Wood, but not today. He closed his door quickly to shut out the snowflakes that had already blown into his warm kitchen and were turning into little wet puddles on on the floor.