”“Well, try.”We switched places and, with a lot of grunting and complaining, he got the lid closed... then opened it again. “I built it for y...u, not for me.” He stood up, the Dalek casing reaching up to his shoulders. Which meant the waistline where the arms stick out... ah, now you’re sharing my imagination, aren’t you. And while Michael was a little slower on the uptake, and I needed to say a few words, make the odd suggestion, he finally caught on as well. And, with a resigned “you. It wasreversal time; let's enjoy Christmas again! It wasn't difficult to findthe small artificial tree I had purchased several years ago. I placed iton a table centred under the living room window. The lights still worked!What else was in the box?My stocking. And Kevin's. Mr. and Mrs. Claus. I held them in my hands andcried. It seemed so final; I now had only memories of the silly stockingstuffers he had incessantly gifted to me. How useless so many of themwere! Now, how I so deeply wished I. More

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