The Present

“Are you okay, Ed?”

To relieve the pressure, Ed tugged on his undershirt collar. He and Mel were at the counter of AL'S DINER.

“My Aunt...”

“What?”

His words came haltingly.

“Aunt Edna...”

Each holiday, she gave the constricting presents.

Before Ed, they went to Uncle Fred. The poor man suffered from the waist down. After the holidays, he always had trouble with his privates.

Always Edna's too-tight underwear.

“Your throat, Ed? Can you swallow the oatmeal?”

His jugulars stood out.

He twisted awkwardly on the swivel seat.

His throat?

His undershirt?

“It's not the throat I'm worried about, Mel.”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Home For Christmas

I finished arranging the last of the ornaments on the Christmas tree. I pressed the switch and the bright red, green and blue lights lit the room, and the star topper sparkled.

The manger was arranged with Mary and Joseph beside the baby Jesus and the wise men holding their gifts.

My children were getting the milk and cookies ready for Santa Claus before going to bed and awakening to presents and my laughter, even though Hal wasn’t home.

I sat on the large sofa and sipped my hot cocoa when the doorbell rang.

My Hal, home from the war.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

True Meaning

As a boy, I remember my dad telling me Christmas is about family and spending time together. Secondary, exchanging gifts.

My own children are opening their presents and their beaming faces light up the room. The Christmas tree is sparkling with silver tinsel and an angel at the top of the tree, its wings white and glowing. Decorations and food consume the house this time of year, the baked ziti’s sauce filling the air with a delicious aroma. But these delightful things are not what my children celebrate.

The birth of Jesus Christ is the reason we celebrate the holiday.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Christmas Morning

Ben watches the kids open their presents. Sharon's smile is frozen in place. His too. It's like a hard layer of snow has settled over everyone, precluding self reflection.

He remembers the frenetic joy that would build as his presents got bigger, even as they became fewer. After the last one, a shameful disappointment set in, a feeling he refused to acknowledge even to himself.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He slinks to the bathroom to read the texts in solitude. Sharon already suspects.

He uses the holidays as an excuse not to say anything. Let's wait until January.

Last-Minute Shoppers

“Wrapping paper! Ha, ha!”

Shoppers passed by clutching rolls of it.

“Fancy spending Christmas Eve wrapping presents!” Ian thought, reflecting on how he’d finished his yesterday.

“My God, they’re fighting over chocolates,” he sneered, observing a couple of housewives tugging the ends of a Milk Tray box in Howell’s Department Store.

He resolved to have a latte in Starbucks to fully savour the spectacle before the shops finally closed.

“Chocolates?!...Christ, I forgot the wife’s chocolates!”

Ian rushed out of the café.

“Where the hell can I find some now?” he thought, seeing the doors of Howell’s snap shut.

From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher

Mall Christmas

Christmas shoppers crush the mall their noisy chatter drowning out tinny holiday music. Fairy lights glimmer from boughs bedecked with fusty smelling red bows. At the epicenter of the mayhem is Santa Claus, surrounded by dingy fluffy snow. Corralling people into a staggering line, the elves keep order as Santa's beard is yanked -- it's real! -- and wishes whispered in his ear. A ruffled and flustered child heads for the over-sized presents next to Santa's worn throne. Ripping shiny paper away, the child's eyes fill with tears -- it's empty! A quick-thinking elf offers a fat orange. Tears gone. Christmas is saved!

From Guest Contributor D. K. White-Atkinson