One Cretan Evening And Other Stories - Plot & Excerpts
Slowly the row of pine trees turned from green to white and their needles sparkled. A crimson-breasted robin puffed out his chest. It was the perfect white Christmas. Santa Claus looked out from between the trees. His huge, round belly was accentuated by a wide belt and his head moved from side to side, as he mimed his maniacal ‘ho-ho-ho’. Over his shoulder was slung a sack from which spilled out a dozen presents wrapped in metallic red and green. And beneath one of the trees nestled a crib. Mary and Joseph bowed over the manger, while shepherds and wise men queued patiently to catch a glimpse of the baby. The bearded figure in red velvet who stood behind them was as tall as the trees and all five of the sheep by the crib would have fitted into the palm of one of his big gnarled hands. Everything was out of scale. In the centre of this tableau, there was a woman, tall and slim-waisted, with bare, strong arms. Claire caught sight of herself as the figures in the seasonal fantasy faded and the polished shop window mirrored her reflection.
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