You know how Christmas is supposed to be nice? How you’re supposed to sleep and dream of sugarplums, and nothing’s making a sound, not even the mice? You know how you’re supposed to wake up all happy and excited, and not spend the ENTIRE NIGHT sketching dreamy fantasy heroes by the dull light of a half-dead booklight, not being able to sleep simply because you’re so worried about not being able to sleep? Well, that’s what I did last year. That was not my ideal Christmas vision.
So! This little page is devoted to my purely imagined, much better versions of the holidays, which, I find, never turn out exactly the way I want them to. I had a silly Valentine’s day thing up before, but now I find it just too ridiculous, so I took it down. Besides, I think this year I’ll conjure up an even more ridiculous Valentine’s day short story… maybe there’ll be dragons in it. And death gods. Yes, death gods. But not creepy ones– DREAMY ones. Sigh.
Twas the night before Christmas,
And God, what an overused poem!
I will start this out with something
That has to do with a gnome.
Twas the lunch before Christmas
And down by the lake
Stood two garden gnomes– but which one was fake?
Nobody knows! cry the children with fear,
We know only one is most certainly real.
The convict was hung by the prison with care,
And the dragon was sitting in his large dragon’s lair.