Why We're Here

"Because writing is, much like death, a very lonely business."
- Neil Gaiman

December 2, 2013

December 2nd

There's a nostalgic feeling that wells up within me when I turn my head and see the glow of Christmas lights from my bed. There's always a moment of childlike shock -- "It's so bright! How is it so bright!" -- which always gives way to a smug reminder: my birthdays here, Christmas is getting closer. The glow right outside my window is white, tinged at the edge with green from another light. There's even a bit of red in the bottom left-hand corner. They illuminate the hour, and shine through the curtains. 

Christmas is coming. 

My birthday's right around the corner. 

[22 days until Christmas; 6 days until my birthday; 5 days until the party; 4 days until my graduation and open house.]

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