They weren’t my best work, but it’s been year’s since we had cookies. I let them cool. I needed to decorate our Charlie Brown tree. I walked the short distance in our one bedroom apartment and started to string the broken colored lights on.

They don’t work but sometimes the street lights reflect off of them alluding to shining bright.

Homemade ornaments came next that we create every Christmas Eve.

9pm. Late.

I gathered the supplies and sat in silence until I heard him.

He busted through the door smiling and holding our first ever Christmas Ham.

Maybe Santa is real.

Word Count: 101

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