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I do miss Christmas, Mr B.”
She strokes the alley cat as it lies with its legs sprawled in the air on her waist.
“Like when Nana was still alive.” She rubs the cat’s tummy. It seems to be fast asleep, purring softly. She was sitting outside the theatre.
“She used to buy us all new Sunday bests, especially for Christmas.” She sighs, strokes a few strands from the corner of her mouth; the light breeze, gently playing with her long, brunette hair. Her brown eyes stare off into space. They were more a light hazel with a dark circle all along the edge of the irises. If it wasn’t for the cane, one would never say that she was completely blind. The sound of the water fountain relaxes her.
“We used to go around the neighborhood and wish everyone a Merry Christmas, almost like trick or treat on Halloween. We got bags and bags of sweets and candy. Those were good times.” She kisses the cat on its forehead.
“That was way before the accident,” she sighs deeply, stops rubbing the stray’s tummy and turns it around. It gives a weak meow, curls up in her lap and continues to sleep.
“Now it’s only you and I, Mr B.”
Kimberly laughs softly.
She looks over to her left and is startled by the blue glow that seems to be coming from the tree to the left of the bench she was seated at. She stares at it in wonder. It does the same throbbing thing the purple streak made in the practice room.
“Can you see that, Mr B?” She picks the cat off her lap and puts it on the bench, to her right; her eyes never leaving the blue glow that was now clearly visible. It slowly emerges more and more from behind the tree. She breathes shallower and restricts her movements.
“Is someone there?” She utters softly.

December 21
Khaleel Jooste

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