Eguisheim, France, Winter, 1900 — snow blanketed the little Alsatian village, muffling every sound until the streets lay in a hush so deep it felt like the whole world was asleep. Inside a modest, stone-walled house, two siblings — Cora, a curious, spirited eleven-year-old, and Jasper, her gentle, protective brother of fifteen — passed the days in the quiet companionship only siblings truly understand.
Winter had locked the doors to the outside world. The garden lay buried under white, the days were long and uneventful, and the evenings were spent wrapped in blankets under the low beams of their shared bedroom.
That night, after dinner, Cora and Jasper lay side by side beneath thick wool covers. Sleep would not come. Boredom pressed against them like the cold beyond the walls. Read more
Cora whispered, “Jasper?”
He turned toward her, smiling softly. “Yes, my little sister?”
“Do you want to know what I’m imagining?”
“With pleasure, my little angel.”
She grinned. “It’s summer. The sun is warm, the grass is soft beneath our bare feet, and the air smells of flowers. I see a park — bright, full of children — and there’s a young woman pushing a cart. She’s calling for the children to come taste her cotton candy.”
Jasper’s eyes lit with amusement. “Cotton candy? You know I adore sweets. Don’t stop now.”
“She has so many colors — pink, sky blue, lemon yellow, soft white. Each one looks more magical than the last. Her cart is like something from a fairy tale, with delicate wheels and ribbons fluttering in the breeze. All the children run to her, and we’re among them, hearts racing.”
Cora’s voice softened. “While we’re eating, I notice two little children nearby — a brother and sister. The boy is chasing butterflies with a tiny net but can’t catch a single one. His sister laughs, and when he finally gives up, he drops down beside her. She asks if he has any money left. Their mother sent them to the market for a loaf of bread, but they’ve spent nearly everything.”
“Let me guess,” Jasper chuckled. “They can’t afford two cotton candies.”
“Exactly. They decide to buy one and share it. And the cotton candy lady — Lora, in my dream — chooses the most beautiful one for them, as if she understands without a word.”
Jasper’s smile turned tender. “That’s a sweet thought.”
“They sit on a bench, pulling off bits of candy, laughing. It’s more than sugar — it’s a piece of joy. You picked blue, of course, and I picked pink. The cotton candy is bigger than our heads. It’s sticky, impossibly fluffy, and perfect. Nearby, a little girl buys one for her little brother, and he squeals, tugging her dress in excitement.”
Jasper sighed dreamily. “You’re making my mouth water.”
Cora laughed. “I just can’t wait for summer, Jasper. In my dream, the park is filled with sunlight, laughter, and the sweet scent of candy.”
She waited for his reply. “Jasper? Are you still listening?”
No answer came. He had drifted into sleep, a faint smile on his lips.
Cora whispered, “I love you, my dearest brother. I hope my dream comes true soon.”
The next morning, pale winter light spilled through the frost-glazed window. Jasper stirred, sat up, and looked at her with bright eyes.
“Cora,” he said slowly, “I dreamed it. Everything you told me last night — the park, the children, the cotton candy. It was the sweetest dream I’ve ever had.”
In their little bedroom, with the snow lying deep outside, the two siblings smiled at each other — hearts warmed not by fire, but by the magic of shared imagination.
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