'Twas the night before Christmas...
It was Christmas Eve in the beach house. Sarah sat on the living room couch with a mug of eggnog, admiring her and Daniel's handiwork. There were garland and velvety red ribbons framing the windows and a plump, festive Christmas tree in the corner. A sprig of mistletoe was affixed above the entrance to the kitchen, and a welcoming wreath hung on the front door. There was even a plate of cookies and a glass of milk for Santa; Sarah had memories of doing the same thing when she was a little girl. She figured Daniel might want to eat them if he woke up again before she did.
Presents for Daniel, John, Anna, and Melinda sat under the tree. She had already delivered everyone else's, either by post or in person. Kaa's present... well, that was the trickiest. But even that she had successfully delivered. Clio and Orwell had presents, too, but those were in Sarah's closet, to keep them away from prying claws and paws. Clio was asleep next to her (with visions of sugarplum mice in her head, no doubt) and Orwell was somewhere in the tree, croaking amiably at his reflection in an ornament.
Sarah shut off the living room lights and wrapped a blanket around herself, to better admire the twinkling lights. It had been a lot of work, but it was worth it. It was a real Christmas.
Presents for Daniel, John, Anna, and Melinda sat under the tree. She had already delivered everyone else's, either by post or in person. Kaa's present... well, that was the trickiest. But even that she had successfully delivered. Clio and Orwell had presents, too, but those were in Sarah's closet, to keep them away from prying claws and paws. Clio was asleep next to her (with visions of sugarplum mice in her head, no doubt) and Orwell was somewhere in the tree, croaking amiably at his reflection in an ornament.
Sarah shut off the living room lights and wrapped a blanket around herself, to better admire the twinkling lights. It had been a lot of work, but it was worth it. It was a real Christmas.