The bottle was empty. Like his life. Winter was coming to an end. He sat down on the park bench and looked from his knobby, long fingers to the snowman, standing nearby. A group of children had carelessly packed him together from lumps of snow.
Jack stared at his eyes, which a pair of cast off bottlecaps. No carrot nose graced this frosty fellow’s face. One of the children had stuck a broken twig in the center of his white countenance.
An idea came to Jack. He hopped off the park bench to pick up the bottle. Careless of humans to abandon such treasures, both the container and the snowman! They understood nothing of the magic which resided in these things. Perhaps, he, Jack, would remind them.
He shook the bottle roughly. No, it wasn’t quite empty. A little golden liquid remained at the bottom.
Jack skipped over to the snowman.
“Have a drink, Frosty!” he half jeered, half sang. He upended the bottle over the snowy lump, who wasn’t much taller than he was. “Have an only too brief taste of life, as I have an only too brief taste of winter!”
Droplets of golden lights fell upon the snowman, disappearing into its white body. The button eyes changed. The holes in them started to gleam with the intelligence of human pupils.
The snowman raised its round, lumpy bottom to reveal a pair of stumpy white legs. It began to shuffle and move.
“Come, Jack Frost!” the strange creature cried in a surprisingly merry voice for all its wintry brittleness. “Come and play, for winter is a waning!”
“Aye, Frosty, like your life!” Jack retorted. “Why should I celebrate something so brief, with a thing I gave on a whim?” He stared at the snowman. “A life, which shall be as short as this winter!”
“Why, because it’s brief, of course!” Frosty replied. Its voice grew warm and slurred as the emotions the drink conjured in humans. “Come, Jack, let’s have some fun, before everything melts away!”