“And what time is it anyway?” She looked for a clock.“Hi mom.”Donna’s face immediately turned red as Trixy walked in. Quickly she stopped ru...bing on the chair and removed her hand from her vagina, only to reveal her glimmering fingers as they grabbed her coffee mug.Yet Trixy seemed indifferent to her mother’s actions, as she simply passed her by to fetch herself a drink. Not even the wardrobe Donna was given to wear seemed to surprise her daughter.Ninon had Donna dressed up like a nineteenth. But the following summer Mom came down with cancer and by fall she had passed. Christmas from that point on, was my dad buying some gifts, then giving them to my sister and me on Christmas morning. No wrapping paper, no excitement, just ‘here they are’.Since that time I have dreaded the Christmas season with a passion. Currently, all it does is disrupt my mundane life. It screws up my television programs by removing the regular fare and replacing them with the continuous flow of Christmas. More

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