Friday, October 26, 2007

Hot Chocolate (or The Kid at Christmas)

I bite into a sugar cracker and gently stir my little mug of thick, hot chocolate. I can hear tiny clinks of my teaspoon's ocassional meet with the ceramic-wall, on the inside.

Clink.

"Phoebe, don't dream! Hang the angel already!" I heard my elder sibling say. My 5-year-old stubby little fingers stopped playing with the little bell around the pretty angel's neck and began peering between the leaves for a place suitable to display it. That angel, I remembered, was my single, most favorite ornament then. After hanging the angel, I turned back to our little box of glittery decorations to pick another piece to hang on our Christmas tree. Something twinkled at the bottom. I reached for it.

Blink.

How the little bits of sugar on my crackers twinkle so. It reminds me so much of Christmas ornaments. My mug of hot chocolate reminded me even more of our favorite time of year. I chew my biscuit quietly in the deafeningly silent night. I bring the mug to my lips and take a long...

Sip.

"Don't take so long with your drink! When it gets cold, it's going to taste horrid!" I heard my mother say. "But I'm waiting for the marshmallow to melt," I heard myself protest, in a voice i'd forgotten and ceased to use for so many years now. How strange I sounded. I saw my mother put her hands on her hips to complete the "Look". Bah, I thought, rolling my eyes. As if that was going to work on me. It was then, that I noticed her hands looked different. They were pale-white and young. Where was the age,... the tan,... the freckles? "Well?" Mother prompted. The tiny heart that pumped in my little chest, began to beat furiously. Why was I so afraid? And as if by reflex, I quickly tipped the heavy cup higher, at a steeper angle. The brimming hot chocolate rushed down my throat, scalding my lips and tongue! My little eyes widened as I placed my cup down in a hurry.

Thud.

I place my little empty mug on my table. It's still warm from the hot drink that was in it. It gives me the best feeling in the world, hot chocolate. I feel sad somewhat that my mug is now void of the drink. It feels so much like my...

Heart.

Check. Mind. Check. Soul. Check. Body. Check. Strength. Check. Great! They're all in place, I thought, as I closed the envelope. Yes. That's my Christmas present to you this year, my friend forever. I'm sorry they're second hand. But they're all I have and ever can afford. I sealed the envelope with a kiss. I know you'll know how to use them. Yes, they are weak, tainted and a little broken. But only just a little. I smile meekly, ashamed of my immature attempt at deception. As if I could ever lie to you. But... you'll take them, won't you? You can make them new....,

Right?

Left? Why are there so many roads? And where do they all lead to? I was looking out into the world through my little left window. "Phoebe? What are you thinking? Are you alright?" I heard a gentle voice ask me. I turned to the driver's seat on my right, smiled sweetly and answered, "Oh, nothing. Yeah, I'm good. Just looking out the window." The voice laughed and said, "All right, we're at my house now. It has wireless internet connection, so you can use your laptop!" There was a certain kindness to the voice that I couldn't comprehend. "Coo~," I remember responding gratefully, still in my stupid grin. I gathered my things, opened my car door and stepped out.

Crunch.

Yum! More sugar crackers. Gosh, I miss Christmas! I distractedly reach out for the teaspoon laying idle in my empty, used heart.

Clink.

I think I need to fill it with more hot chocolate.

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