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Christmas perspective

              The crystalline flakes of snow floated down to laden the ground in a carpet of sparking white. Colourful little lights blink in neighbouring windows and trees illuminating the dark, dark night. 

It was two o’clock in the morning and all was silent except for the gentle hum of the appliances in the kitchen, and there I sat. 

Alone. 

Alone and in the dark with my Dollar Store Christmas lights in the window.

They blink on. They blink off. 

Blink on. Blink off. 

On. Off. 

Over and over as I sit motionless with nearly empty vodka bottle in hand and starring at my empty shot glass. I took a very long swig from the bottle. It burned down to my empty stomach. I was beginning to feel weightless sitting in my – What had the catalogue called it? – Azure coloured couch.

She said it’d matched the indigo coloured speckles in these blasted curtains – It’s blue! It’s all just the f*****g colour blue! – I rolled my eyes as I attempted to stand. I finally make it to my unsteady feet – it all started with those f*****g curtains! – I sway and stumble a bit as I cross the room to the light-blinking window. I steady myself on the arm of the chair and gain my balance.

There I stand. 

Staring.

Starring at the f*****g blue speckled curtains. In a loose state of mind I watch my hand grasp a fist full of the tormenting curtains and begin to tug. I tug once, twice, and the third time the window trimmings came crashing to my feet. I couldn’t help but to smile at my miraculous work and how pissed she’d be if she were to come home and find her precious curtains askew. My splendid smile faded as fast as it had come – but she’ll not be coming home to find her curtains askew, now will she? I took another deep swig from the vodka bottle that was still in hand, polishing off the last of the comforting liquid – She’ll not be coming home to find the pathetic curtains and husband askew this time, not this Christmas.

 This Christmas was going to be very different. 

I smear my sweating palm across the wiry bristles of my stubble and try to figure out how I got myself into this pitiful mess, moreover why on earth I let her walk out that f*****g door – It was dish soap, it could have just waited until the morning, but I’d gone and pissed her off again – God!

I let my weight subside against the edge of the window. I slide to the floor amongst the pool of miserable curtains; resting my arms atop my bended knees, letting my head thump against the glass in defeat. There I sat alone. 

Alone and in the dark with my Dollar Store lights still blinking in the window. 

Alone and in a pool of misery and f*****g blue curtains.

Alone and aching to have been the one who’d left that night. 

Then maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t be sitting here so alone.

Author's Note

Enjoy :)

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[Brendan Kerestes]

gggggggggggggggggggggrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaatttttttttt!!
G-r-e-a-t!