• A man dressed in garbage bags walks across the centurial bridge this Christmas Eve. Wearing nothing new, except the smile forming on his wary wrinkled face - that was so used to scowling; he stops to stare at the river below him. The stream runs still this evening, catching the full embodiment of light hanging above it. Along with the moon, he sees various other things, not quite as beautiful in the river. He sees broken blades of darkness threatening to cut the threads feeding the river: his river… his life. He sees a battered trolley, submerged in half darkness, half light. Twisted in such a way, that at first he thought it was a body. A body of his sweetness; crushed. He thinks of sweet Analise. Her very being, was to be that of the word ‘sweet’. Of other words to describe her; beautiful, radiant, energetic, it would always come down to the single syllabised word ‘sweet’… and nothing more. He thinks of her sweet smile that sweetened the air whenever she would bloom it. Possessing dark locks that flowed long and slow, like the river before him. Sweet supple unmarked flesh savoured on his palate just before her final breaths. He owned those final breaths. Not by right, but by his very strong unrequited love for her. And now she would own his. With hands gripping firmly against the brick, he lifts himself onto the thick edge. Then, tilting his head towards the moon like a wolf ready to howl, he speaks as loud as his hoarse throat could muster. “Oh forgive me, my Analise!” he cries out, just as bright streams of light ascend into the night sky. In a final act of love, he leaps into the dark abyss to follow the same fate as his sweet Analise. Bang! Bang! Boom! Christmas morning had come with a rude awakening to Krissy Bell. She had recently stumbled into her home, head between heels, drunk from the Christmas Eve office party, the one big social event of the year, and had instantly collapse onto bed for some shut eye after it. But then came a - Bang! Bang! Crackle… - she was ambushed by a cacophony of explosions. Another blast that came shook the walls of tiny apartment and her heart as well, had sent her leaping from her sofa bed like a pouncing tiger, though she collided heavily with the floor. Still wearing her party attire, she swore aloud as her head swirled like a straw in a Mojito whirlpool. “Oh god, what the fuck” she breathed out exasperatedly, as she gripped her head between her hands like a vice, to try to stop her head from spinning. It didn’t work though. She looked up at her pale lilac walls and noticed the walls changing colours. She watched them turn to pink then to red, to green then to blue. It would have been all quite soothing, if it wasn’t for the sounds that came with it. From outside her front door, she could hear people cheering “Merry Christmas!” they said in unison. “Merry Christmas, everyone” someone said again. Christmas greets me with a sweet sadistic smile. She thought to herself. She must have been the one of the few people in the world who actually hated Christmas.

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