| Silent night played quietly on the stereo. Outside the window, a light, fluffy snow had begun to fall. Taking a seat in his recliner, father popped a beer. He stared quizzically at his wife. From beneath Mother came a muffled cry. “What the fuck was that?” Father asked as he stood. James was equally confused. Dropping his toy, he squinted. With a loud mew, the kitten struggled to drag itself from underneath Mother’s butt. “Nick!” James cheered. “You’re alive.” “Honey, you’re sitting on the cat,” Father said as he tried to shake his wife awake. Mother’s head lolled toward him. The icicle twinkled in the firelight. Saint Nick broke free and stood on uncertain legs. James readied the knife… # # # Standing over his father’s mutilated body, James didn’t cry. He laughed. |