I took the job knowing it was the only exit from my wrecked life. I should write about small things, the fee was not so bad and i could work in or out office. There was just a little detail: my boss was one of those small-fingers-men. No chance, we did not get on each other since the very first time we met.
Christmas was coming and then he shot me: I need a Christmas story, till tomorrow evening, you know…
Swimming into a sea of desperation, i sat on my desk. The office was full of different noises coming from all around. I was perplexed. Time went by and i had not written a single word. I decided to work at home. I went there and prepared everything carefully. My notebook, a jar with orange juice, a little Santa that i had kept since was a kid and my cigarettes. All the stuff was ready over the full-function table that was close to the window. Everything was in the right place. The street was in silence. So was my brain. The only eco passing through my mind were his last words: till tomorrow evening… No idea about Christmas. Time went on running and i kept focused on the white virtual page. I knew time was leaving me alone when i saw the street covered by darkness. In spite of the knowledge about my bad situation, i turned in and fell asleep.
Next morning when the alarm clock woke me up, i had wanted to throw it through the window, but i didn’t. Instead of it i prepared the jar of juice, and litting a cigarette i sat down to work again. My mind went on without any idea. A few hours later i had to finish my work, however i couldn’t begin it.
The atmosphere inside home wasn’t helping me. It would be better to go out and see what’s up in the street. I needed a rest and fresh air. I was at the door when I realized it was locked. I had no idea where I had left the fucking keys. I checked every common place where I used to leave them. No matter at all. They had vanished. I should go out immediately, the symptoms of my old phobia were reappearing: my hands began to be wet and my left cheek was pounding wildly. All of a sudden, with no sign of hesitation, i opened the window and run down through the fire escape after having taking a few things which i kept into a backpack: notebook, cigarettes and wallet.
A couple of children were playing in the street. When they saw me, going off the outside walls slinging the bag over my shoulders, they didn’t have any doubt about who i really was. So, when i arrived to the street, they began to shout in a very loud voice: boys, come in, Santa is here. He is bringing us our presents. Let’s come to see him! A few minutes later many children were around me, looking at my face with bright eyes. I would have like to explain them they were wrong, that they had too much expectations, that i was a fucking loser…
I tried to explain them that. But it wasn’t an easy work. I remembered my weak voice saying: listen to me, please…I don’t have any presents for you…, it made me sick… I could feel the great disappointment in their heart. So i said i don’t have any presents but i can give you something different, just, listen to me…
Suddenly they sat on the sidewalk, making a deep silence. I found myself making up my first story about Christmas. I never sent it to my boss. I just phoned him, wished him Merry Christmas and bought a ticket to the beach.
That story was sometyhing similar than the following: Once upon a time, there was a little child who lived in a very far land. His name was Tilly. Christmas was coming and he wanted to send a letter to Santa Claus, to ask for the huge red truck he had seen on the paper. So, one morning he got up very early, left home and went to the Post office. He had to walk during two days to find it. He sent his letter and came back home walking again. When he arrived he was exhausted. He had to walk for a very long time. He realized he was living in a very far land. How could Santa do to find me? He will never know where I live, he worried.
Christmas’ night Tilly felt anxious. He kept watching the door and the window out. Nobody came in. In spite of his efforts to keep awake he fell asleep. Next morning when he woke up the sun was shining. He could see a bright blue sky through the glasses. Inside the house, nothing had changed. Not even a single trace of something different. He couldn’t come, sure, he thought. He had to go to a lot of different places…and my home is so small and far…he complained. Then a strange noise coming from the backyard began to filter inside the house. In spite of the fact he felt anguish he decided to go out and see what was happening.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A beautiful white horse was there. This is the most beautiful surprise that I could ever expect! Now I can go where I want to. Never ever will I have to walk again and my house will be closer of the world than before.
After that he rode the horse through the wind melting him with the skyline..
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