Chronologically disadvantaged
| On the arcade |
| The Village of the Damned |
| Guestbook |
| Archives |
| Contacts |
| Subscribe |
| About |
 |
| Frunt |
| not important |
| Scaryduck |
Part the Second: Unwrapping Christmas morning dawned. Normally the dawn is a phenomenon that passes me by. I think the last time I saw the dawn was back in the old days, when I'd work through the night and suddenly realise that the morning sun was shining on my computer screen. Nowadays, sunrise is more of a theoretical event. I know it must happen. I've just never been awake enough to notice. Not so this morning. Because this morning I had an excitable girlfriend jumping up and down on the bed yelling "It's Christmas! It's Christmas!". Me: It's not Christmas. It's the middle of the night. Lucy: No it's not, it's morning - look! She yanked back the curtains and, sure enough, the sky was lightening to a pale grey. Which I suppose is what passes for sunrise in London. Lucy: It's Christmas morning! Time for presents! Ah. Yes. Presents. As I've mentioned elsewhere, I'm useless when it comes to buying gifts (consider the candle fiasco when Lucy and I were courting). Furthermore, Lucy was not your average girl, so just buying her a bunch of flowers was out of the question. In the end I'd got a bit flustered on Christmas Eve, gone into a load of charity shops and just bought a bunch of random stuff. We exchanged gifts. I unwrapped mine - it was a small canvas on which Lucy had painted a caricature of all the Bottle Shop staff. It was great; she'd obviously put a lot of time and effort into it. And I'd just dashed out at the last minute and bought her a pile of crap. I had a ball of anxiety in the pit of my stomach as Lucy started unwrapping her first present. She opened it, impassive, and put it on the floor without saying a word. Then she opened the second, and placed it next to the first. And so on, in total silence. Eventually, she'd lined up the five gifts I'd bought her. Her face was like thunder. I was a mess of sweaty panic. Inner Voice: I told you. She's going to murder you with a bread knife. You should have just phoned Interflora. Lucy: So, let's see. We've got a pottery statue of a rabbit. A plastic pineapple... Me: It's an ice box shaped like a pineapple. Lucy: (lifts off the top of the pineapple) Oh, so it is. Anyway. A pottery rabbit, a plastic pineapple icebox, a book of "Amazing Stories for Girls"... (Lucy riffles through the pages) Lucy: ...Which seems to feature the adventures of a very jolly girl called Joyce, a 500-piece jigsaw of Lyme Regis and, last but not least, a paisley tie in a very fetching shade of puce. Me: Lucy, I'm really, really sorry. Christ, I'm so sorry. Lucy: What for? Me: Well, the presents, you know... Then I noticed that Lucy was beaming her bobby-dazzler of a smile. My panic dissolved. Me: Are you winding me up? Lucy: Yep. I love them. They're perfect. Me: Why I oughtta... Lucy: Well, why don't you? I guess there's one good thing about getting up ridiculously early on Christmas morning. It means you can go back to bed again. Until Jasper arrives, that is.
Christians Awake
26.12.03 18:44
|
(30.12.03 11:21) 'when we were courting' .... aaaahhhh .... sweet ..... |