Two Years Old: Bliss and confusion
Five Years Old: The wonder of a Lilliputian
Ten Years Old: A cheery illusion
Fifteen Years Old: Apathetic seclusion
Eighteen Years Old: Capture that feeling in a jar
Twenty-Four Years Old: Career precedes Christmas from afar
Thirty Years Old: Introduce the family's new star
Thirty-Five Years Old: Going to grandma & grandpa's in a three-row car
Fifty Years Old: First Christmas without dad
Sixty Years Old: So much to be happy about, and some to be sad
Seventy Years Old: The smiles of the generations make my heart glad
Eighty Years Old: It went by so fast, what a life I’ve had
Home means Christmas and Christmas means home
All through the years, wherever we roam
There’s a place for us, with warmth, struggle, and smile
But the persistence of Christmas is worth every while
About the Creator
Stu Haack
Marketer by day. Writer by night. I focus on horror and sci-fi. If my stories feel like the Twilight Zone or Love Death + Robots, it's because they are my inspiration, along with Stephen King and Paul Tremblay.
Snow Need to Rush
I watched my breath form a small white cloud as it puffed out of my lips and dissipated before my eyes. I rubbed my hands together, blowing into them with the precious bit of warm air that remained in my lungs. My leg bounced as I stared into the cold dark world beyond the windows of my truck as they remained partially fogged up.
By Donna Fox (HKB)5 days ago in Fiction
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