She wasn’t the same since her grandmother died

It was almost like her soul died when Barb did

Like there was nothing left of her but actions and silent cries

You see they did this Santa thing every year

On Thanksgiving they would bring their grandma a Santa

You know the porslin ones that you can stick on your table

Sooner or later about twenty Santas were carried down from the attic every year

And another was added

They called it the Santa parade

They took a picture with the Santas for their Christmas card

And then placed them all around the house until new years came around

But this year, you see grandpa said no more Santas

He said it was a waist of space and it would bring back too many memories

Until mom and dad said “hey, go get the Santas”

Oh she went un in that attic and saw the line up of tiny men all across the shelf

As a tear hit her foot and a scream filled the house, she swiped all of them off the shelf

And with one whip of her arm they were all gone

Shattered into tinny little bits and pieces

Never to be restored

And grandma looked down at her from above

She gave her a smirk and started to cry as well

Flash backs arose and things started to shift

Her eyes became so fogged with her tears that she couldn’t even see in the double vision her eyes intended her to see

She sprinted out of the house down to the corner to find the man with the booze

And she was gone