There's a lot you can do on Saturday or Sunday afternoons. At this time of year you could go out shopping - it's a traditional thing to do at this season - or you could visit relatives and socialize.
But maybe you do not feel like being around a whole host of people.
And some of them, you are convinced, are nuts.
Time for something new. Just for you.
Find a quiet place to read.
Everyone else may lose their minds, there is no need for you to do so.
Go someplace where no one will disturb you, crack open that new volume, and settle in.
If you plan it right, you'll have several hours before you need to see anyone else, and there will be a nice hot cup of tea and a comfy throw rug in your secret refuge.
As you languorously stretch your legs, you flip the page and discover an entirely new world.
Your brow furrows, and fully distracted you relish this moment.
Elsewhere in the city the host of holiday shoppers descends, rabid-dog like, on a twenty percent off sale, mercilessly ripping some poor sales girl limb from limb, splattering her innocent blood against the plate glass and holiday ornaments. Charming trinkets fly through the air like so many missiles, shattering against craniums, seriously wounding random victims in the crowd - they are quickly stripped of all clothing and born aloft, insensate, trembling, limp. Trophies! A fevered mob breaks every bottle in the perfume department, becoming drunk and impassioned from the heady fragrances.
It's a scene of utter chaos, any moment now the riot squad will come bursting in, guns and pepperspray blazing and big night-sticks at ready, before they too are drawn into the frenzy, squealing "oh hey, the missus would LOVE that" as they pull out their credit cards, pressing up against an ecstatic cashier.
They are butch and giddy in their macho outfits.
Sweating, moaning, utterly aglow.
And over all this, a repetitive metallic screeching of carols.
But it is very different where you are. Your brow furrows as the precious fantasy presented in the crisp white pages enchants you, and your lips part slightly - your breathing quickens in anticipation.
Oh, this is just perfect! What a splendid afternoon this is going to be!
Later, after four or five enthralling chapters, you deliciously stretch.
Now, where's that cup of tea?
And some nice buttery short-bread! Cake!
The warmth and peacefulness you experience are delightful.
Doing this was so much better than being out in the cold, surrounded by insane and unlikable people.
If only it could always be like this.
Next weekend, more reading!
You have had a MUCH better afternoon than anyone you know.
And you're not going to share it with them.
Hah! It's all yours!
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly: LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
Actually sounds like the shopping is more fun. Like watching a shark feeding frenzy.
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