Four delightful Christmas stories to read by the fire.
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If you're looking for a bit of humor with the Grinch of Christmas, a shocking sister rivalry in a Christmas eve reunion, or a coming-of-age romance here is a collection of delightful short stories to put you in the Christmas spirit
Some may think I hate Christmas. Itís not that I hate it, I just donít think about it. I donít know what all the fuss is about, anyways. If others want to waste their time and money celebrating what most kids believe is all about them and Santa, well, thatís their prerogative. Leave me out of it.
Take the Moser twins next door, Luke and Lars. Those two are scoundrels eleven months out of the year doing everything possible to torment anyone who looks vulnerable. Theyíll throw rocks at flying birds, knock down their nests, or tie string over the sidewalk hoping to catch a good laugh when someone trips. And youíd better hope to God your cat never wanders across to their yard. Of course, soon as Christmas rolls around, theyíll put on those toothy grins and act like the angels have been dancing around their heads all year long. I say rats to them.
This house has been in the family since the late 1800ís. Iíve lived here for ninety-three years of it. It may seem hard to envision right now, but once I was the baby of the family born as an afterthought in the same bedroom where I sleep now. This ole place may look a little rough around the edges, like me, but itís a fine solid house. My sister and brother were in their late twenties when I was born, and not around long enough to even spoil me. Everyoneís gone now and thereís no sense hashing over details since the best thing for me is to keep the past where it belongs.
Iím fully aware there are people trying to put me in the convalescent home that sits a few blocks up the street. Ha! Theyíll have to drag me kicking and screaming before that happens. If you were to visit these parts it wouldnít be long before someone mentions Ole Scrooge down on Elm Street. Thatís me, thatís what they call me. And donít bother asking me if I give a rip, cause I donít.