Clarissa’s Christmas Eve

Clarissa opened one eye and waited for the excitement to hit her. It was Christmas Eve. What delights awaited: The lighting of the tree, the sugar plums, the stockings hanging, Papa carrying her up to bed. But that was long ago and she was here and now. It was Christmas Eve and she was alone. She struggled to push off her covers and clamber out of bed. She was sure, if she could hear them, her old bones were rattling. Clarissa gritted her teeth. She would not be blue. Christmas Eve was her favourite day of the year but despite all, she could feel the black dog edging closer in the grovelling crawl that dogs adopt, thinking you can’t see what they’re up to.

“Be gone!” she said, turning her back on darkness and summoning happier thoughts. She would wear her blue empire waist dress with the puffed sleeves and…