Since the age of 13, they’ve met every year for their annual Christmas party, sharing stories, sharing lives, sometimes even sharing boyfriends, and always sharing their love and profound affection for each other, sharing in the love and all the wonder that Christmas bestows upon each of them.
Now, 50 years later, they still meet for their annual Christmas party, only now the wonder is – which of us will be the first to go?
Tristan marvelled at every shelf unable to believe his eyes. Ten stems, head cavalcades, mIghty filament lenses. The intergalactic children’s superstore really did have everything he would need for his time distortion reactor.
At night, when I look out into the shining blackness, I wonder if there is life in the Universe. The freezing Argon makes my face tubes squeeze in time to the flapping of migrating sky motes.
Wonder whose stage you’re strutting.
Not mine, not hers, not his.