| Frost sparkled on the big picture window by the fireplace. The flames stood tall and swayed, spawning puffs of milky smoke that raced up the chimney toward the night sky. Overstuffed stockings hung on the mantle, their contents threatening to spill onto the floor. A Christmas tree sat in the corner, its branches weighed down with heavy ornaments. With the lamps dimmed, the strings of blinking lights cast colorful shadows on the white living room walls. Christmas music played in the background of the cozy house. Outside, a steady snow began to fall. It was a perfect Christmas Eve night. Alex and Marie cuddled as they sipped warm hot chocolate. A thick coat of melting marshmallows floated on top of coco in their huge mugs. As they kissed the fire crackled and a single golden spark floated up and was gone. “You know, maybe we should put the fire out so Santa can come down the chimney. I don’t think he’ll show if there is a chance a flame might burn his ass,” Marie said. She tipped her mug up to finish what remained of her coco. The sticky, thick clumps of chocolate paste slid into her mouth, sticking to the back of her throat. Alex chuckled and rubbed his forehead. “That would be something now, wouldn’t it? If only the jolly, fat man was real. I’ve asked him for a Playboy subscription every year since I was twelve. Do you think I received it yet?” Marie punched his arm and smarted off. “You don’t need the naked pictures of the plastic dolls, dear. You’ve got the real thing, 100% human flesh, no additives or enhancements.” A slight grin inched up on Alex’s face. “You’re bad, you know? That is why I’ve purchased you the perfect gift.” His right hand moved to the pocket of his faded Levi’s. Digging around for a couple of seconds, he pulled out a black piece of coal. He handed it to Marie. Marie’s angry stare made Alex uncomfortable. Usually her big brown eyes lulled him into a love trance, but this time they filled him with fear. Marie was pissed. With a quick, swift motion she grabbed the rock out of his hand and threw it at the brick fireplace. “You dumb bastard! I thought for sure you were going to ask me this year! We’ve been together for two years now and you have to pull off one of your childish pranks! You fucked up this time. I’m done playing games. I can tell you’re not thinking about our future.” Furious, she tossed her mug at the fireplace. It struck inches away from where the coal hit. She watched as the cup showered the brown carpet with shards of sharp glass. That’s when she noticed it. The piece of black coal had broken in two. Inside a gold band glimmered--its solitaire diamond sparkling like dew in the morning light. Tears fell down her cheek, racing each other to her chin until, like little divers, they dropped off and splashed onto her black pants. Slowly, she got up and made her way to the link of her future. Alex sighed, relived that her anger had subsided. He got up and walked to Marie. Softly he took the ring from her and got on one knee. “Marie, will you...” Alex turned and peered into the fireplace. Fizzle, fizzle, fizzle--it sounded like drips of water landing on a skillet. A white object fell from the top of the chimney and landed in the burning pit. “Alex, what in the hell is that?” Marie screamed. “You’re seeing the same thing I’m, how should I know?” Alex grabbed the poker and knocked the fist-sized object out of the blaze. Landing on the cement blocks that squared the fireplace, the thing still burned. Both Alex and Marie plugged their noses an whatever it was smelt rotten. He ran to his half-full cup of hot chocolate, rushed it back, and poured it onto the flames. With a sizzle and a hiss, the flames disappeared. Alex gasped when he realized what it was. Marie puked, and some splashed towards Alex and landed on her new ring. A severed hand wearing a white glove lay in front of them. Burnt flesh peaked out from the holes that had been singed through the white wool. “That’s impossible,” Alex screamed as he pondered the gruesome discovery. “There is no fucking Santa!” “Explain that then,” Marie replied, pointing. |
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| Up on the Rooftop
By Brian E. Yount |