I despise Christmas. The city becomes like a pestering showroom, seemingly designed to provoke me. Flaunting what they have: Christmas trees, gifts, loving families gathering around the tree once a year like in the movies. I once had a family too a beautiful wife and a lovely daughter. But I screwed it up My wife left and took our daughter with her. They might be living in England now. I know nothing about them. I cant even be angry; after all, I was the one who drove them away. Since then, Christmas for me has been about loneliness. About how people constantly remind me of what Ive lost. But this Christmas will be different. This year, Ill have a tree too. I will be the tree. Ive picked out a sturdy roof beam. Thats where Ill hang myself. I thought it would be easier, but Ive realized that this actually requires the most courage. Being suicidal isnt simple. So, I jumped down to the store for a bottle of whiskey, to drink up some bravery one last time.
The street was completely deserted. There was no sign of life, except for that one convenience store where I finally managed to get some booze. I paid for it; the cashier wished me a Merry Christmas. I just shrugged and walked out the door. Why not start drinking right now? I opened the bottle and took a big swig. The whiskey scraped its way down my throat, and then became a warmth in my stomach, which felt particularly good on this cold winter night. After a few sips, when my steps began to wobble, I decided to stop for a moment to relieve myself. Thats when I noticed the homeless person on the street corner. He wore tattered white clothes, possibly burlap. Maybe he stole it from a nearby nativity scene. The light played a strange game on his body as if he was glowing. Or maybe it was just my eyes playing tricks, which wouldnt be surprising after downing half a bottle of whiskey in about fifteen minutes.
Why not, after all? Im not in such a hurry to hang myself that I cant spare a few minutes for a half-crazed man.
The homeless man just nodded, then took a sip of the whiskey. Thats when it hit me where I recognized this face from. No, not an old friend. The last time I saw him was in the church. A very long time ago, when I still went to such places. It was Jesus himself sitting next to me, looking exactly as he was depicted in the church.
I sat there with the most influential man in the world on an empty street, sharing a bottle of whiskey. He seemed so real, but I knew it couldnt be true. For a few moments, I just stared blankly, then he broke the silence.
At that point, I took a big gulp of whiskey.
That last gulp might have been unnecessary. I started to feel dizzy, and the world became increasingly blurry. Finally, everything melted away
I felt a pressure on my chest. Slowly, I opened my eyes and stretched widely. A fire flickered in the fireplace, and Katy, my little girl, was sitting on my stomach.
I clambered out of bed and rubbed my eyes. Under the ceiling-high tree, the presents were already laid out. Annie had taken care of everything, and let me sleep until this little imp jumped on my stomach. By the time I came to my senses, Katy was already unwrapping the gifts, then suddenly stopped for a moment and turned towards me.
I watched Katy unwrap the presents, and a feeling of otherworldly joy washed over me. This is my gift. I had forgotten how much I adore Christmas.
I wish you a merry Christmas!
Excerpt from:
A Christmas Story (after the technological singularity) | by Laszlo Fazekas | Dec, 2023 - Medium
Recommendation and review posted by G. Smith
