Halfway to Christmas

Afternoon sunlight streamed through the round windows. On the low table, the golden bell rested on its soft cloth. Beside it stood two cups, the pine cone with the red bow and the closed red book. Flauschi gestured towards the table with an open paw. Flauschi“Do you remember how quietly we tried the bell?” Puschel“I remember how long we listened afterwards.”

Puschel looked towards the paper star by the window. One point shone brighter than the others. When they hung it up, they had to step back a little to see the whole star. Puschel“I liked it even when it was still lying on the table.” Flauschi“So did I. Every point was a little surprise as we folded it.”

There were fifty days left until Christmas. Puschel thought about the start of their countdown and looked at the closed Christmas chest beside the cupboard. Back then, they had barely known which ideas would fit inside it. Puschel“We’re halfway there already.” Flauschi“And some of my favourite memories won’t fit in the chest at all.”

She was thinking about the patch of sunshine on the rug where they had simply stood for a while. She thought about yesterday’s woodland picture too. As they drew, they remembered the kind neighbour who had shown them the dry way past the puddle. They still hoped to give him the picture when they next saw him. Making it together had already brought them joy.

Flauschi looked at the pine cone again. The red ribbon had kept changing shape as they tried to tie it. Flauschi“At first my bow looked like two tired ears.” Puschel“Perhaps it was tired from all that practice.” They both laughed, and for a moment all they heard was the quiet crackle from the fireplace.

They did not have to agree on the best moment so far. Puschel liked listening as the sound faded. Flauschi liked the time they had spent drawing together. They left the bell resting on its cloth and told each other what they remembered.

The red book with its green bookmark lay on the table. Puschel looked at it and moved one cup a little to the side. Puschel“Shall we read a little later?” Flauschi“I’d like that. For now I’d like to stay here a bit longer.” She stood beside him and watched the sunlight move along the edge of the table.

The paper star turned a little. Puschel and Flauschi watched it. They had left the rest of the afternoon open. There was room for a story, perhaps another look out the window, and plenty of time for each other.