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It's Christmas, Carol!
It's Christmas, Carol!
It's Christmas, Carol!
Ebook43 pages36 minutes

It's Christmas, Carol!

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Carol hates Christmas! As far as she is concerned, it is just another Thursday, just another day at work. But during her workday, between 4 PM and midnight on Christmas Day, she is haunted by the kindness of strangers and painful memories as she ponders the true meaning of Christmas - past, present and future. 

Who is that man with the big white beard and the jolly laugh? And why does he care if Carol has a nice Christmas or not?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherWordbuilder
Release dateApr 11, 2016
ISBN9789188385000
It's Christmas, Carol!

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    Book preview

    It's Christmas, Carol! - Sara-Lisa Andersson

    It’s Christmas, Carol!

    It’s Christmas, Carol!

    Sara-Lisa Andersson

    Wordbuilder

    Contents

    It’s Christmas, Carol!

    Also by Sara-Lisa Andersson

    Excerpt from Stuck With You

    About the Author

    It’s Christmas, Carol!

    Carol hated Christmas. Really. It was not just something she said, the way people complained when it all became too much – so much to do, all that shopping, cooking, decorating, oh, those terrible in-laws coming for a visit. No. Carol meant it.

    She hadn’t celebrated Christmas in more than ten years; that’s how much she hated it. But even then, it was impossible to avoid it completely, living in a big city that almost drowned in Christmas decorations and Christmas music and Christmas hype as soon as Thanksgiving was over. The last month or so had been one long obstacle course for her to maneuver. Christmas parties, office get-togethers, Christmas movies on TV, and everywhere she looked there were tinsel and glitter and ornaments the size of beach balls decorating anything that stood still long enough.

    Just one more day to get through, she thought miserably on the morning of the 25 th as she slogged up the stairs from the subway and out on the street that was covered with a thick layer of gray slush. Great. She couldn’t understand why anyone in the inner city would dream of a white Christmas. She didn’t make it more than halfway down the block before it started seeping in through her boots. Now she would have to work in cold and wet socks all night.

    She didn’t mind working on Christmas, not really, but she hated the look on people’s faces when she told them that she didn’t celebrate Christmas. So she lied. She told her family, what little was left of it, that she was spending the day with friends. She told her friends, the few she had, that she was spending the day with family. And she told her co-workers that pitied her for having to work 4 PM ‘til midnight on Christmas day that she would celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve and resume the festivities on the 26th when someone else was on duty.

    No one knew the truth: that her small apartment was completely devoid of decorations and all kinds of foods that would normally be associated with the holidays. That she hadn’t bought a single Christmas present or sent a single Christmas card. That she had signed up for work today, voluntarily, because it was just another Thursday for her. She didn’t care. She might as well make herself useful because she really had nothing better to do with her time.

    Work on holidays was not that stressful either. The phones hardly ever rang. Everyone was busy eating turkey and opening presents and cracking nuts and singing carols and watching old movies on TV. Carol couldn’t wait for the holiday season to be over so that the regular programming would resume. Why would anyone want to watch the same old movies

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