there is snow, like there should be. im wrapped in a crimson sweater. the house still smells of sugar cookies, though it's empty now. empty but for myself and my little black, red-collared dog. the electric glow of holiday fills our front window with multicolored lights, the only lights still on now. i blew the candles out. christmas. the homeless population down the hill celebrates as best they can beneath the southbound onramp. oh pilgrim, look well. for i was once as you are, and you will be as i am. happy christmas