upsot

Perhaps it was the speed of the lean, lank bob tailed bay, or perhaps it was the surface of the road, light snow, packed and slick from the blades of the many sleighs driving over and over it. He had fallen earlier, was sprawled on his back when a friend had seen him and laughed.
Ok, maybe it was outside the tavern, and perhaps he had a pint too many.
The bells were jingle, jangling, and now he sat next to the barmaid who promised him a ride home. Then like an over-turned snow globe, his
face hit ice.