Christmas Eve in New York always feels a little lonely. You can tell on the streets: people are desperate, more foul moods, bad tempers and skells than any other time of the year. All day long. It ended with someone puking on the stairs in front of the house.
Dad's dying this year. Makes it tougher. You notice more, perhaps, or notice more of the negative stuff. If only it were snowing.
Well, time to stay indoors until the real madness breaks loose tomorrow. But between the waves of craziness are moments--just like any other time of year--where there's a chance for magic.
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