December 23rd

The next night we stroll the neighbourhood looking for elaborate Christmas light displays. The best one is not far from my home: an explosion of red and white on a lawn that features two palm trees, a fountain with a Christmas tree in the middle, a Santa with a Marlin catch, and Baby Jesus presiding over the whole show.

In kneel down in the soft glow. Klink stands on her hind legs and licks my forehead. It’s her traditional goodbye.

“You’re going to miss me, aren’t you?” she says.


“Well, not too much I hope.” She pauses, searching for words. “You know, you’re thoughtful, but you need more than an imaginary friend sweetie.” And with that she turns and walks away. A street light burns out and she disappears.

I sigh. “I know.”


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