It's Christmas morning in the LeBach household, Halloween night everywhere else. There is electricity in the air, rain in the gutter. The power went out last week along with the cat, and I'm beginning to worry about them both.
Everything in the room has taken on an eerie glow, outlined by Saint Elmo's fire as brushlike discharges of atmospheric electricity dimly illuminate the festive living room. We can only marvel in detached amazement at the incredible scene before us. I haven't seen anything like it in months.
Visions of sugarplums that were dancing upstairs throughout the night, have finally quieted down and I'm reflecting silently in the mirror about how Christmas is such an awe inspiring time of year, what with all the strange phenomena traditionally occurring, like jellied cranberries, black olives, brown-and-serve biscuits and half-price mattress sales. I wonder if everyone's Christmas is unfolding just like ours, or if maybe, somewhere, the creases are intact...
