He gently rubbed his hair back in the steam of the bath. He gazed over at the empty wine glass. He chuckled to himself. ‘What a sad thing, an empty wine glass is.’
He’d thought perhaps he could shake it off but here in the tub, his thoughts got worse. But it was no use, and this year, it was worse than ever. He absolutely hated Christmas.
He had entered the dreaded Christmas media blackout period. Television had been intolerable for weeks already. Commercial radio had become the annual tsunami of commercial singing ‘Jingle Bells’ set to the words “Shop Shop Shop, Shop Shop Shop.” Even the classical music station had abandoned him, switching to all Christmas music. It was of no use.
He was sure that eventually someone around him would inadvertently “Ho Ho HO” their way to learning the erotic joy of a bell shaped buttplug. He only had to make it 13 more days and it would be over. At least until next September 1st.