The Beginning

First, he brings the heavy bags up the stairs from the storage space below the house, officially introducing the holiday season. In the box, I find the handknit Santa hat I bought last year from that little booth at the Sawdust festival. I wore it nearly every day in December last year for the sheer joy of it, liberated from style consciousness in this new life of mine. As I pull it on, I hear the familiar pop of the champagne bottle opening and the sounds of the old widow slipping into the flutes we save for these moments.

Nov | December IG-12.jpg