The miniature plastic Christmas tree droops in the hall.
Tinsel and baubles glint distant daylight. Dust dims its foliage.
A 40-year-old Santa clings for his life to the very peak, as if a lumberjack has just called TIMBERRRR!
A 40-year-old Santa clings for his life to the very peak, as if a lumberjack has just called TIMBERRRR!
If I leave it there long enough, maybe it'll merge into the tub it sits on, the boots around it - the pile of miscellaneous CBF.
Only one person can make me put it back in its drycleaning bag, back in its box, and try to make space in the spaceless closet for it again.
A hero. A superhuman demi-god.
A hero. A superhuman demi-god.
Marie Kondo.
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