9 December 2012
The gentile storm begins to subside, a single snowflake delicately rests on her cheek.
Her blushing face melts the tiny cold fleck of winter, causing it to trickle down her face like a tear of joy.
The lights of the tree reflect in the whites of her eyes, the glance appearing so magical and joyous.
Her hand in mine, glove in mitten, perfection had been achieved.
We slowly walked home, the snow crunching beneath our feet, our footprints disappearing as quickly as they appeared.
Our front door opens to a roaring fire, the heat warms us to our bone.
That was it, the perfect Christmas, effortlessly achieved.
A Dream Of Christmas. • Opuss № I