It was time to pack Christmas way. It felt like the decorations and the tree had always been up. The green wreath on the door welcoming guests and the lights flashing colours warmly.
The boxes came down from the attic, the tape came out once more to secure things. There was the slow and careful packing of breakable things; glass angels and burbles. The lights were wrestled back into their boxes to be untangled next December. All that fragrance of Christmas began to fade.
The house seemed different once things were taking down. They left behind an strange emptiness that couldn’t be filled by anything else.
The Story Files 