- Joined
- Sep 24, 2024
- Messages
- 1,081
- Level up in
- 1419 posts
- Reaction score
- 6,277
- Points
- 3,577
December 24th, 2024
Christmas Eve
To my beloved friends at Retro Game Talk,
I am writing to wish you and your loved ones a fine, safe, peaceful holiday season. Tomorrow morning, you and I will awaken to a world of glistening, twinkling snow – a white world, dotted luxuriously with the gorgeous, vibrant colours of gifts and the smiling faces of those you hold dearest. With any luck, there will be joy and bliss for you, after a long, tiring year.
But tonight, the world is dark. Save but for the fireplace, hissing as it devours the scraps of night my chamber reluctantly feeds it, the world is silent, as well. If I crane my head to the window, and laboriously fix my eyes beyond these warm walls, I can see a scattered array of snowflakes fall to the earth, delicately tracing little ribbons against an ebony sky. These gentle crystals are my comrades. This tired, weary world is my home.
I return to my easy chair, replace the blankets over my lap. A cup of mulled wine sits at my side, the fire keeping it warm. I take it and drink – even that, at this late hour, seems an ordeal. My eyelids grow heavy. My breath a bit softer. The warmth eases its way through my form, until I am embraced entirely in its arms.
I am thinking only of you, my dear friends.
To those who I have gleefully spent my time with since September. To those who have only joined as of late. To those who have blessed me with their long-form writing. To those who have made me chuckle with their pleasant japes. To those with whom I argue. To those with whom I agree. To those who never fail to bring a smile to my face.
To those – to all – whom I consider my friends. I wish you Merry Christmas.
And now the fire is growing dim, and so am I. The wine has been drained. The food has been eaten. The games – those retro games, that we do love to talk about – have been played. Father Christmas is on his way. I shall not be here to receive him when he arrives.
And now, my eyes close. The world becomes dark. The world becomes silent.
Will I dream of you, my friend? And you, of me?
I can only hope. Merry Christmas, and may your world be bright forever.
Yours,
Gorse
xoxoxoxo
Christmas Eve
To my beloved friends at Retro Game Talk,
I am writing to wish you and your loved ones a fine, safe, peaceful holiday season. Tomorrow morning, you and I will awaken to a world of glistening, twinkling snow – a white world, dotted luxuriously with the gorgeous, vibrant colours of gifts and the smiling faces of those you hold dearest. With any luck, there will be joy and bliss for you, after a long, tiring year.
But tonight, the world is dark. Save but for the fireplace, hissing as it devours the scraps of night my chamber reluctantly feeds it, the world is silent, as well. If I crane my head to the window, and laboriously fix my eyes beyond these warm walls, I can see a scattered array of snowflakes fall to the earth, delicately tracing little ribbons against an ebony sky. These gentle crystals are my comrades. This tired, weary world is my home.
I return to my easy chair, replace the blankets over my lap. A cup of mulled wine sits at my side, the fire keeping it warm. I take it and drink – even that, at this late hour, seems an ordeal. My eyelids grow heavy. My breath a bit softer. The warmth eases its way through my form, until I am embraced entirely in its arms.
I am thinking only of you, my dear friends.
To those who I have gleefully spent my time with since September. To those who have only joined as of late. To those who have blessed me with their long-form writing. To those who have made me chuckle with their pleasant japes. To those with whom I argue. To those with whom I agree. To those who never fail to bring a smile to my face.
To those – to all – whom I consider my friends. I wish you Merry Christmas.
And now the fire is growing dim, and so am I. The wine has been drained. The food has been eaten. The games – those retro games, that we do love to talk about – have been played. Father Christmas is on his way. I shall not be here to receive him when he arrives.
And now, my eyes close. The world becomes dark. The world becomes silent.
Will I dream of you, my friend? And you, of me?
I can only hope. Merry Christmas, and may your world be bright forever.
Yours,
Gorse
xoxoxoxo
