'Kingfisher', en novelle om jul og genforening

It was getting colder for every day. My legs were getting heavier for each step I took in the perpetual snow, and the faded white steam from every breath I took wreathed my head. I was covered in what felt like a thousand sweaters, scarfs and gloves, and apart from my numb fingertips I felt like a roasted thanksgiving-turkey. My cheeks had got the same colour as my unruly red hair, and despite my solitary existence I was in an almost unfamiliar “jolly” mood. An unfailing axe was tied to the sledge I was dragging behind me. I associated the scenery to an old “Donald Duck” animation I used to watch as kid around Christmas. I was heading for the greatest and most elegant tree I could find - A beautiful dark green nordmann fir like the one back home.

I sometimes missed home; My parents, my little brother and the purring cat with the white fur. They often asked me why I stayed here. Why I waited all this time, alone in a small cabin. The answer was not clear, although it was unwavering. I was simply seeking for a miracle. I was seeking for something unique and more beautiful than anything else – you. The hunt was not easy. I had to constantly keep my eyes wide open, if I wished to find the perfect one. I couldn’t wait to bring the tree back to the cabin and fill the small rooms with the scent of fir and Christmas. It was a beautiful place. My view was breath taking. From the small windows I could spot mountains and frozen lakes as far as the eye reached. I could see the small but romantic village down in the valley. I loved the view at daytime, when the sun rose and bathed the landscape in its’ rays of sunshine. In the summer we woke up to the sunrise and fell asleep to the sunset. But at winter it was different. I still woke up to the sunrise, but the sun set so early that I couldn’t possibly fall asleep. I was forced to confront the night, and worst of all the stars. Every evening I would look at the stars and think of you. I would think of summer and the times before you had to leave, cold baths in dark lakes, and long walks in mysterious woods. I tried to assure myself, that a Christmas tree would bring just a little light. No matter what, I could hope that you were looking at something as beautiful too!