December 4, 2013

The day before yesterday I saw a Christmas soldier lying on the ground. Funny, he didn't really look too different from me. We could have been brothers. But then I saw him start to stir. I saw him come back to life and reach for his glass of eggnog. Something about the way the nutmeg was dusted atop that creamy cup of filth lit a fire inside me. I knocked it right from his trembling hand and wished him a happy Winter Solstice. As his body lay cowering on the ground, I pulled the small bible out of my breast pocket and read him this passage: Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.



And that's when it happened. Two small boys came up behind me. They were only kids for god's sake! They each wished me a "Merry Christmas!" I was caught completely off guard. I was sprawling on the ground before I was even conscious of being hit, the blow deadening all sensations. I suffered considerable pain but I'm more comfortable now. Weak. I'm doing whatever I can to keep my mind strong. You can take my body, Christmas, but you'll never take my soul.