Episode 60

Reflections from the life and times of Mr. Smith. Christmastime is here. I woke this morning to the sound of bells. Christmas bells. Sleigh bells. I realized they were coming from somewhere up on the roof. I flopped out of bed and rolled to the window. It was ajar. I twisted the lid on the jar. Lets see how does that go, righty-tighty lefty-loosey? I stuck my head out the window. I stuck my torso out the window. Turning, I stretched my gaze towards the roof. Suddenly, a blob of snow slid down the roof and hit me in the face. And I paused and reflected on life and realized, snow is very cold. I lost my grip…on reality. And I drifted, I drifted for what seemed like years. I was spiraling, I was twisting. I was doing “the dance”. In this alternate dimension, the snow spiraled around me in colorful twists that looked like a mixture of black and white photographs and billions of nerds floating not down, but up. This vortex of color…(and lack of color)…spun me up and suddenly I wasn’t falling, I was floating. For a second I blacked out. And when I awoke two seconds later, I was laying on an ocean of floating cotton balls with crushed lilac petals. I touched my hair, ran my fingers through the silky streams, and I realized this was definitely a dream. Because I had hair. I let go and embraced the dream. Suddenly above me I saw a bright red blob quickly falling towards me. Suddenly terror built in me when I realized the blob was a very large fat Santa Claus and he was about to land on me. I made an awesome ninja move, springing on my hands, landing a ways back on my face. There was a splat as Santa landed. I thought he landed, but instead he pushed through the ocean of cotton balls and disappeared into the clouds beneath him. Suddenly I realized I had failed. I was destined to save Christmas. The Smith who saved Christmas. With a lunge I flung myself through the hole that Santa had left in the cotton balls. Now I was falling. But I had to reach Santa before it was too late. Terror again grasped at my heart. As I saw Santa about to be impaled on the rows of houses below, I realized I had failed. At that moment I woke up, and for a second, I had not failed. I had not, not saved Christmas. But only for a moment, because then I hit the floor. As I lay there, snowflakes drifted through the window and landed softly on my face.
Thus ends this week’s reflections. And then my mirror image disappeared.