*When you review this, could you suggest a title as well?'*
Fluffy, creamy marshmallows dipped halfway in the unicorn cup full of hot cocoa just waiting to be devoured. Outside, it’s snowing. White, perfect snowflakes, each one a complete opposite of its sister, yet they are much too tiny for us to see their magical shapes. The petite sisters dance gracefully across the sky, their debut and final dance ending on the soft snowy ground.
Inside, it’s warm. The fire dances in the fireplace, burning away the wood, coloring the room in orange, bathing it with its hot blaze, laughing at them silently. Their best friend. Their worst enemy.
Dinner’s on the table. It’s the night before Christmas Eve; everything is set. Large gold and red balls hang off the Christmas tree, garlands and the angel at the top. The children heave a sigh of relief. Santa will be pleased.
They sit at the table, drinking their cocoa or eating their dinner, whichever stage they’re at. There’s nothing to disturb the tranquility of the moment, everyone’s at peace, everyone shares in the beauty of the Elvis Presley Christmas songs in the back.
Then, dinner is over.
The children go to their nursery. There’s two of them, a little girl and a little boy. They brush their teeth, put on their fluffy pajamas, quickly get into bed as it is cold and wait for mommy and daddy to come and tuck them in.
Here they come, up the steps. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Daddy’s steps echo, compared to mommy’s gentle footsteps. Soon they enter, smile at the kids. A bed time story is in order. A big, colorful book with hard covers is taken out. Here follows a story about a doggy and then, ‘Good night’ Mommy says and kisses her children on the cheeks. ‘Good night’ Daddy says and does the same.
They exit. The thoughts of unpaid taxes and prepaid vacations haunt them. It used to be better before. Then he got laid off. And now they could barely make ends meet. But the children didn’t have to know. For them, they had bought large gifts, depriving themselves of expensive wine and beautiful clothes. For them, Christmas would live on and life would be as it was.
They’re tired. The arguments begin ‘We shouldn’t have bought that trip, I didn’t want to anyway’ says the mother, ‘Well, you didn’t feel that way before’ says the father, ‘I didn’t mind, but honestly, it was pointless’ replies the mother ‘You always have to complain don’t you?’ says the father. They turn away. Walk away from each other. The fire watches. It laughs gleefully. No one notices.
Sleep. All is silent. There is no yells, no arguments, no laughs. Just silence. Perfect silence. All is calm. Everyone is safe in their dreams. All their worries forgotten for a few hours. Sleep has come, even for the parents who were restless. Exhaustion does that, they say.
The air is thick with smoke. A fire alarm sounds. Father wakes up, and mother. ‘The children!’
They run outside, the steps devoured by the fire, their children yell and cry hysterically as they watch. Mother and father grab them and look for a way out. Where do they go now? The stairs are devoured, the furious fire quickly makes its way upstairs, the angry flames eat away at everything they can.
The firemen arrive. Good neighbors saw the house on fire and called. They were just on their way to warn them.
Father opens the window of the children’s room and the firemen place a ladder. Soon they are safe once again.
But the fire has devoured all else. The house is burned down to the ground and all they can do is watch as the firemen struggle to put out the vigorous fire. So helpless. Once again. They can do nothing but stand by as someone takes away their possessions.
At the insurance company the next day, they can’t help them. Their insurance has expired, the sour lady in the green outfit says, nearly two months ago. Did they not receive a notification?
No, they did not.
The kids wonder why mommy and daddy look so down. They wonder where they would spend Christmas this year, since the house burned down. Would they go to a hotel?
But mommy and daddy have no money for a hotel. They sit at their neighbor’s house, kind enough to accommodate them for the night. They look out and wait for a Christmas miracle to happen. And wait. And wait.
There’s hot cocoa on the table, fluffy marshmallows dipped in it, waiting to be devoured. The snowflakes dance in the air, falling lightly on the ground. The flames play in the fireplace. Watching them. Laughing. Their best friend. Their worst enemy.
