I’m typing this from a hospital bed with one good hand and bandages across my face, the injuries still too raw for me to look at without spiraling. The staff here thinks I had an accident. They keep using that word. Accident. As if I bumped...
Growing up, or at least since the mid-two thousands, my house always had an Elf on the Shelf during the Christmas season. If you don’t know, Elves on the Shelf are these little elf dolls that are supposed to be scouts for Santa Claus. I...
“Christ,” I muttered to myself, as the first flakes of snow started to fall. They gathered in fuzzy clumps over the windshield before my wipers cleared them away. I’d been waiting for fifteen — no, twenty minutes now — in my sister’s driveway. Had I...
“It’s creepy,” Dan balked. “It’s cute,” Julia countered. “Besides, it’s fun. I mean, geez Scrooge, where’s your Christmas spirit?” Dan picked up the doll and turned it over in his hands. It was the prototypical Christmas elf as imagined by Hollywood in a red onesie, Santa...
