See the below post (Okay, good! And now...) for rules. Take your edited version of this original, and cut cut cut.
Her carriage slid around the last curve in the road, rounding the lawn of the Jackson home. The wagon she'd seen was pulled close to the steps with the back fully exposed. Blood saturated its floor, dripped through the cracks, and pooled on the ground beneath. The snow glistened in stark contrast to the encompassing scarlet puddles.
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My tighter version!
Her carriage slid around the last curve, rounding the Jackson's lawn. The wagon she'd seen was pulled close to the steps, the back exposed. Dripping.
She jumped out, stumbling toward the carriage, the deadly puddles of scarlet glistening against the white, stark snow. She was too late.
The carriage slid around the last icy curve, nearly tipping as it swung onto Jackson property. The wagon she'd followed sat empty, close to the home's front steps. She discovered why as she pulled up nearby: the wagon bed was saturated with blood. It dripped through the cracks and pooled on the ground beneath. Untouched snow glittered in stark contrast to the spreading scarlet puddles. So much blood! But whose?
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