Thursday, November 09, 2006


Small. A world of cushions, blankets and coffee tables. The walls are near, deep yet delicate red. Adorning them are high dark wooden shelves. Shelves filled with gorgeous small knickknacks of a old and golden description. Glory saved throughout the years. Faded and tarnished with age, but still shining brightly through. The untouched floor matches the shelves and is comfortably blanketed by a large rug. Behind the towering plush cushions of the deliciously warm couch there is a window. It opens as though it were a painting. It brings in the scene perfectly fitted into black lined window frames. A snowy scene. Inverted light and dark. The ground is glowing with its generous layer of untouched snow. The sky steps back its position of light bearer and is content to accentuate. Ink black streaks make their way to the sky. Leafless trees streak the white as though painted. A balmy gentle cold, held at bay by the small window. The ever dancing and crackling fire plays out its violent drama safely contained with an ancient fire screen. Stockings warmly dangle above. Empty but for the promises they hold and the excitement they freely give. A latticed wood coffee table. Atop it, a cutting board. Shards of chocolate lay already chiseled from the block and waiting for indulgence. To the side a beautifully made box of spiced chocolate truffles. Discarded also there is a plate, a dark cream color. The remnants of the perfect thick and wholesome stew, in a bread bowl. And then, upon the couch, nestled in blankets... I survey the scene. I take a deep swallow of my rich and smooth hot chocolate. Whipped cream folded with caramel on top. Warm, smooth and not too sweet. I draw it from my lips and turn back to my ornately leather bound tome of classic fairy tales and folklore of the world. My perfect Almost Christmas Day Evening.

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