Bahumbug

From my bedroom window I can see the neighbors house that’s set on the corner of my street. Laying on my side, my entire body feels as though it’s become one with my mattress. My childhood mattress at that. The floral pattern  wanting so badly to eat me whole… Outside its raining as the Christmas lights in my neighbors windows twinkle through the downpour. Their mud room has six thin windows all in a row and each window has one of those fake candles in them. Six thin windows, six little plastic candles, six tiny fake flames.

My vantage point from here on the shitty floral print mattress, the tiny electrical faux-flames, they wink at me. They say, Hello creep across the street. Hello weird onlooker, window peeper I see you there. And I smile. Hello shitty decorations meant for a consumerists fake holiday. Hello tacky light show. They wink. We both have each other figured out. On the same page, if you will.

Red. Blue. Green. Red. Blue. Green. Over and over and over. Slowly folding into each other. Each fake candle changing all at different speeds and its at this time that I notice the son of the woman that owns the whole building is getting into his truck to leave for his job. Across the sea of blankets the alarm on a phone sounds and I realize that I’ve been watching these lights for far too long.

Isn’t that a wonderful example of what Christmas truly is? A good distraction from the important things at hand? I hit the snooze button and continue my visual conversation. My important things can wait longer.

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