For an entire Christmas Eve, you sleep. The dog is delighted, she buries her body in the blankets along your side, nuzzles her little nose into the crook of your arm. Your breaths rattle, but your chest is full of warmth. When you wake up on Christmas morning, isn't your head a little lighter?
With rest, you start to remember the stories from which you've hidden, the plans which so so loved to feel in your blood stream. The end of the year draws nigh, a new one readies its lungs for deeps breaths and big steps.
Where will you go when it arrives?
Who will you be when the questions are asked of you?
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