A sliding sound, perhaps of sled runners on the roof; rustlings in the chimney; distant thumps and bumps from the living room, heard faintly through my bedroom door.
I throw back the covers, wondering. I sidle down the dark hallway. I pause at the top of the stairs. I listen as someone slurps the tall glass of milk and smacks down the cookies I left on the fireplace mantle.
Has it finally happened, after all these bleak and gift-less years?
Is it really Santa, with his bag of presents, down there beside the Christmas tree. Or is it Something Else?
I throw back the covers, wondering. I sidle down the dark hallway. I pause at the top of the stairs. I listen as someone slurps the tall glass of milk and smacks down the cookies I left on the fireplace mantle.
Has it finally happened, after all these bleak and gift-less years?
Is it really Santa, with his bag of presents, down there beside the Christmas tree. Or is it Something Else?
