‘Honey cakes sound nice,’ I admitted, ‘but I’m not sure drinking beer first thing in the morning is a good idea.’
‘It’s not strong. The herbs will invigorate you,’ she coaxed, ‘it’s more like a sort of spiced porridge than a drink.’
Couldn’t say that exactly sold it. While I was trying to think of a polite response, the older woman came up. She held one of the baubles from the Christmas tree. It was a sort of dull silver and blue. Light caught on intricate golden markings. It was the loveliest thing, far too nice for its surroundings.
‘I could see you liked it,’ said the waitress, ‘it’s for sale. I wonder if you’d like a closer look.’
This is a collection of stories about Christmas. Family Christmases, mysterious Christmases, lonely Christmases. The Christmases which are how we imagine they should be, as they sometimes are and how they might be.
Funny, fantastical, thought-provoking. A story every day for advent and one for Christmas Day.