Collaboration with @fragrancewrites
I held onto the beautifully red wrapped box that laid in the palm of my hand; so frail and gentle.
The red scorching fireplace twirled in the background as the LED lights and stockings hung above it; allowing the room to feel cozier.
Each breath traveled through the air with the scent of gingerbread and candy canes; igniting the feeling of the holidays at home.
As the presents scattered around the floor, and the sounds of my mother’s baking and making of hot cocoa levitated through the kitchen and into the living room; swirling around the symbol of the winter season.
It glittered in the corner of the dark room, admiring the honor that it was given with the love and devotion towards its appearance.
The golden, red, and white ornaments swung from the branches of the five-foot pine tree; with ribbons of tinsel and Christmas lights that bejewelled its presence in the house.
On top of the peak sat a blissful angel with a miniature golden harp in her hand; appearing as if she was the one playing to music that flowed in the air, with the voice of Dean Martin.
Inside it felt warm and safe, as the world outside submerged into a bedspread of white crystals. It covered all of town, all that I could see.
The fire in the fireplace, rose so high simmering quietly as the bedspread, became thicker and glistened outside. A glass of warm milk and three counted cookies, left out for a man.
He’ll climb down the chimney, ever so gently. Eat the cookies and drink the milk. He gets tired easily after all the toil he put in. Flying around with his reindeers, delivering presents to all the kids. If there is a kid, who’s been a little naughty, coal he shall receive in a tiny little box, wrapped ever so perfectly.
Happily I doze off to sleep, after mother said I won’t get presents if I don’t do so. The next morning is anticipated with excitement galore. The tiny, stocking filled with candy, and other small surprises. I simply could not wait, to see more.