Words for Wednesday ~ September 27

Today is Wednesday. And this means Words for Wednesday!

This challenge started a long time ago, and now it has become a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words are provided by a number of people.

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

 It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.

So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.

-- 🇦 -- ⛸ -- 🇧 -- 📰 -- 🇨 -- 

In September River at Drifting through Life is supplying the prompts for Words for Wednesday.

Today's Words:
Frozen
Dollop
Crazy
Bazaar
Bizarre
Belt
    and/or:
Boomerang
Gallon
Running
Newspaper
Calendar
Cakes

I used almost all from the first set (not Bazaar) in the order they were given. And I just continue my story of Susan and the burning Ghost house. 
 
Susan was almost frozen long before the officer returned. She actually considered using her snow magic, as the officer in the driver's seat just sat dozing, But she decided against it. When the first officer finally retuned back the one behind the wheel sat up and asked for Susan's address and turned on the car. The flames were already dying down as they drove past the Ghost House.
At home Susan's parents had dinner ready for her. Cousin Anne had had her parents phone Susan's parents, so no scolding happened. And the praise from the policeman made Susan's cheeks fluster.
A big dollop of ice cream rounded off the dinner nicely.

Next morning Susan slept in. When finally she woke from her crazy dreams of ghosts, fires and labyrinthine houses, the weather had changed. It was cold no more and the fog pressed against the windows. She had been right yesterday had been the last skating day that winter.

She savoured her breakfast, steaming hot tea and honeyed toast. She had no plans for this Saturday, except cleaning and wiping down the skates and hanging them on their hook ready for next year. "Or rather," she thought, "ready to go to the used skate-shop in Helsingborg. My feet will have grown again, and I'll have to accept that I can no longer have a pair of nice, white figure skates, but will have to make do with a pair of black hockey ones. It's a bugger being this big." She cleared the table and then spread papers and brought materials for cleaning and polishing the skates. First she pulled out the long, white laces and gave them a good beating and shaking outside. After cleaning and polishing the blades, she tackled the protectors and put then into place and finally the boots proper. "Tomorrow,"  she said, as much to the skates as to herself, "Tomorrow the skates will have dried out, and I'll  rethread the laces, and tie them into a nice, tight knot. And then, into the cellar you go until next winter," she said. "Thanks for the fun times."

Saturdays meant market, and Susan went there with her mother. It was not big today, and Mum met some of her lady friends and began exchanging news about friends and family. "Mom?" Mom looked at Susan, "I'll go down to the newspaper office and see if there's anything about the fire in today's paper." Mom nodded, and Susan left.
She walked quickly down to the newspaper office. Next to the steps and door leading into the office was a big window. Behind this, today's paper hung like so much laundry on strings fastened with pegs and Susan looked at the pages until she found the story at the bottom of page 13. No photos, only a short mentioning, which did not tell Susan anything she did not know, except for the street number of the Ghost house.
Susan had a bizarre itch to go and see the Ghost house once again.

... to be continued