The happy place

WE are alone in the hotel lobby, drinking coffee with the dogs, although they are not drinking coffee, only my wife and I.

Outside, the black sky is full of stars, because this is the darkest day.

We’d just been out with the dogs in this quaint little town with its wooden houses and cobbled streets, even in the darkness this is an ideal place to shoot some children’s show, like you would expect to see Pippi Longstocking out there, except the streets were empty. Not even a car could be heard.

The hotel is mostly vacant, like in a dream or something, but there are other people here, because the tiered stand, which yesterday was full of homemade candy now stands empty; in fact I ate the last one yesterday on my way back from my yearly meeting with my father in an Indian themed restaurant which played classical music.

He said he had the best day in decades and that was a fine thing to hear.

To my left is a big Christmas tree.

I am really feeling it.

The darkest day of the darkest year in a long time of my life, my family’s too.

It felt like this is the turning point.

I am pretty sure it is.