Two people lay on the floor of a burned out building, each one curled into a tight ball under a jacket in a vain attempt to ward off the cool air of the night. Their eyes were closed, their breathing steady and deep, but the dreams they dreamed were neither restful nor merry.
Spin looked around, remembering the sights and sounds of the season. The tree in the living room, stretching to the ceiling, festive decorations adorning the sweet smelling pine branches. A toy train was set up, chugging away merrily around the tree, circling presents festooned with cheerful bows, almost as though it were guarding the gifts. The aroma of cookies filled the air, Santas waiting to be coloured with red and white icing, gingerbread men smiling happily on the cookie sheet. Tomorrow would be the turkey and mashed potatoes and pie and other things that Spin didn’t really care about. Everything was as he remembered.
Only, no one was around. He listened carefully, but the entire house was silent save for the noise of tiny wheels on tiny tracks around the tree. Slowly he made his way into the kitchen, but the cookies that should have been there were not. There were no crumbs, no bowls of icing, no thawing turkey, nothing. Even the pleasant smell of baking dissipated as he entered the room, leaving behind the scent of burnt food.
He made his way from room to room, moving faster with each empty room he found. Soon he found himself back in the living room, and now the tree had changed. The needles were all brown and half had fallen to the ground. The decorations lay scattered across the floor, many of them broken. The train, run on batteries, lay on its side, the wheels moving with a laboured slowness as the power ran down, the sound seeming pathetic in the sudden darkness.
Spin fell to the floor and began to cry, feeling like a child lost in the supermarket, wishing for his mother. Instead he was alone. All alone…
He woke suddenly, jumping to his feet and looking around in a panic, convinced that his horrible dream had come true. It took some time for him to remember where he was…when he was. Sitting down carefully so as not to disturb his companion, he leaned against a wall, relieved that it had only been a dream, but still disturbed all the same. He looked down at Caz, at the frown that seemed permanently etched onto her features, wishing there was something he could do. He wondered what she was dreaming.
Had he seen those dreams, he would have been less than happy…
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