- Decorating The Tree -
Every Christmas, I ate Santa's cookies, put coal in everyone's stockings, opened presents weeks in advance, and gave Rudolph a bottle of laxatives. "But 400 years on the naughty list grows old", I whispered to the Fairy emerging from a cloud of dreams.
With eyes that had influenced the stars, she stared back at me - awaiting my vocal cords to shake. Interrupting my contrived silence, she whined, "Why can't you be good, my dear"? Plumped with excuses, I knew the truth was that I simply did not know how to be good. But how could I tell her that I was nothing more than a Christmas brat? As she waited for me to speak, I could see she was growing impatient - eyes fluttering in annoyance like butterflies from an aggressive child. But still, I sat frozen watching the Queen of Dreams turn her light demeanor against me. The further I stood silent, the farther she sulked into a dream-like state. As she became comatose from boredom, the surrounding walls and the Christmas tree began to blur into one. Stuck in time, the morphed vision became a manifestation of her dreams. Finally, opening her eyes, she murmurs, "In this dream, you know nothing but being good. Welcome to the Nice List. Merry Christmas".