The elves are busy

Santa heroinSanta’s elves were up late last night, cutting, chopping, and filling little bags with the magic powder the people crave.

Christmas magic is alive for every man woman and child; a needle and a spoon, a flickering candle’s heat, penetrating, mixing with blood once lifeless, now alive with pleasure and warmth.

Loneliness recedes as her breathing slows; her heart no longer keeping up the frantic beat of society.

In peaceful serenity she fades away; remembering better times, when the elusive contentment was taken for granted, rather than bought from the man on the corner, who only pretends he is Santa.

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