More flashing. I think my inner Scrooge is acting up as I've found myself drawn to topics that are most definitely un-romantic these last few weeks. But I'm not fighting it. If nothing else, I've learned that it's in my best interest not to hold on too tightly to any preconceived notions about what I'm bound to do on any given day. I'm hella unpredictable and learning to like it.
She found the box in the closet and set it down beside the tree. Removing the lid, she peered at the once-treasures piled inside. She hung the ornaments he had given her first, placing them carefully on the branches, evenly spaced. The popcorn garland they had strung together while watching Christmas specials was next. And finally the angel, the one he said his mother made for them. She stood back and nodded, then poured the kerosene over the branches. She didn’t look back as she tossed the match and walked out the front door of the now empty house.