Snow on my Window

My desk is covered in books and greeting cards, mom’s kitchen is filled with the emanating smell of cookies, the fairy lights have been guiding the dark hallway and my soul is screaming, “Christmas!” It’s the most beautiful time of the year again, and my heart feels as wintery as the weather. At times I get the feeling that I might just be Elsa’s descendant. I don’t know what it is about this festival that turns me back into the 11-year-old snuggling under her Pooh blanket and reading about Harry vanquishing Professor Quirrell. Maybe it’s the smell of the snowy breeze or the high of sugary candy or just an uncanny interest in the roots of this tradition. The longing for memories gone by, and hope for roads yet untraveled. My head is singing the carols whose lyrics have slightly faded, and my hands are all set to excavate the cheesecake.  

Meanwhile, my not-so-secret Santa is busy preparing my gifts.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Till I write again,

Creative Insanity.