(The above graphic was made with TypeStyler for the Macintosh. 'Tis a super program.)
This is the final installment of my holiday trilogy. Say amen, somebody.
A Gift of Friends
A knock on the door, little feet rush to see. Who could be calling tonight, Christmas eve?
The stranger, he shivered, as the door opened slow. The ground had been frozen beneath a fresh sparkling snow.
Hiya mister! Are you Santy Clause? Did you bring me my gifts?
The man gave a pause.
His coat was worn ragged, no shine for his shoes. No gloves for cold hands. He had little to lose.