#20322 - 12/19/09 01:39 PM
Re: write your Christmas story.
[Re: Maureen]
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Cyrano
Pooh-Bah
Registered: 12/17/01
Posts: 1733
Loc: San Francisco / Isle of Mull.
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Wot luv! Course, I speaks proper wiv me kids evry day on the dog and bone, dunna I. Mattera fact I was just chinnin' wiv'em dis, mornin'. I 'eard the dog and bone ringin' while comin' down the apples and pairs, bin up lookin' for me favourite whistle and flute (which, by the way, cost me an 'erd of ponies twenty years ago)an 'adn't took off me daisy roots before me missus gave me a bit of the ol' Barney Rubble!
Ya know wot, though, me ol' Dutchess, I look forward to pullin' ya, a pigs ear, an' we can rabbit and pork till the cows come 'ome. Stiffen my ol' knocker, it's hickery dickory dock, I gotta me comin' some aggro from the trouble and strife!
See ya, Dutch!
_________________________
For me writing is a national park of underdone thoughts and ideas.
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#20323 - 12/20/09 12:45 AM
Re: write your Christmas story.
[Re: Cyrano]
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Anonymous
Anonymous
Unregistered
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This from a member of our writing group.
Charles awoke to the sound of familiar Christmas Carols coming from the radio. While lying in bed the elderly gentleman began reflecting upon all the joyous times in his life that this season had bestowed upon him.
Back in his teen years, before he married, he was so footloose and fancy free that during the Christmas season, the nearness of mistletoe would cause him to grab the first young lady close by and give her the most generous kiss one could ever imagine, having no regard in the least whether or not the young lady wanted to participate in his kiss.
As Christmas came around each year, he began wanting someone to share his life with completely, not just stealing a kiss under mistletoe. Having a wife to come home to would be the answer to his loneliness. Then one day he was blessed with a wife that he loved dearly and a couple of years later another blessing, their first child, a beautiful daughter, Susan. Two years later a fine son was born and they named him Tommy. Then to complete their family a third child, Virginia was brought into the world.
Mary, his precious adorable wife wasn’t haughty like so many girls in his town seem to be but instead she was gracious, charming, but most of all kind and loving. Sometimes during these years of raising their family, his dreams were filled with such happiness and contentment that when he awoke he felt as he was floating on clouds way up in the heavens. Oh how he longed to experience just one more dream like that, so it could take him to a place of such fabulous contentment once more.
As he stumbled downstairs to the kitchen, he thought he heard the laughter of their children from so long ago. Suddenly, to his amazement, there stood his son Tommy. He watched Tommy bring him a chair and the old man sat down. As he sat he felt the arms of his beloved son covering his weary body. “Tommy”, he called out to his son, “where have you been for so very long”?
Charles heard his son’s voice say “Daddy, don’t you remember? I died fighting the Germans in 1943 to keep us free, Mom and you, Virginia and all Americans.”
“Yes, yes son,” Charles replied in a whisper. “We were so proud of you bravery. How much we grieved for you, and missed you with all of our hearts”.
Slowly he rose from the chair, making his way to the ice box. As he reached out and grabbed the door to the box, a scent of the sweetest perfume filled his nostrils. Then a soft compassionate voice said, “Dad, I’ve missed you so.” He realized the voice belonged to Susan, their first born, “Oh my lovely daughter”, her father said, barely able to speak her name, “where have you been for so very long?” “Daddy”, she answered softly, “don’t you remember”, I was an Army nurse stationed at Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941, when the Japanese bombed. I lost my life that day for you and Mom, Tommy, Virginia and all Americans”.
“Oh yes, the old man said, “how deeply your Mom and I, Tommy and Virginia grieved for you but we were so proud of your courage and commitment to America.
Looking into the ice box, he retrieved some milk, then a bowl and cereal from the cabinet. His hand was shaking now as he poured the cereal, when he felt a light touch on his right shoulder. As He looked around what his aging eyes saw was beyond belief. There stood Mary, his wife, the greatest gift God had ever given to him. She stood there smiling so sweetly and the love that radiated from her surrounded him, making his knees wobble so until again sat down in the chair. “Mary, oh Mary my love, how I’ve longed for you,” Charles spoke exuberantly.
“Charles”, she said “just hang on; you will be with me in the near future”.
These words were just what he needed to hear this Christmas Eve morning and the angelic vision of his wife, Mary, who had died years before caused Charles to come alive in his mind and soul once more.
Just as he finished eating his cereal, he heard a knock at the front door. It seemed, as he walked towards the door his strength and energy had been renewed. Opening the door, he discovered carolers singing “Hark, the Herold Angels Sing, Glory to the New Born King”. His eyes filled with tears when he realized these carolers were his own flesh and blood family that had driven many miles to visit him. There stood Virginia, his daughter and her husband Jack, and their three grown children, Susan, Tommy and Mary and their spouses, plus his six great grandchildren who now were all in their teen years.
This he knew for certain was not a vision sent from God but rather they were truly his living family, all together for the first time in many years. How happy he was to see all of them, especially his daughter, Virginia and her husband.
“Come on Dad, get your coat and hat and come with us to the town square to see the Christmas pageant”, Virginia pleaded. “Afterwards we’ll have hot chocolate and cookies and lots of hugs around the Nativity Scene at Church”, Virginia continued.
“Yes, yes” Charles said, laughing for the first time in months. While collecting his hat and coat he looked up to the heavens with thoughts filled with gratefulness for this special Christmas Eve when the Lord had sent him visions of those no longer living that he loved so completely and missed so desperately but most of all for making it possible for all those family members he also loved so much to spend this Christmas with him. This will be a very good Christmas after all, maybe not like those of the past I spent with Mary but a very good Christmas indeed. Merry Christmas to all……
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#20324 - 12/20/09 12:45 AM
Re: write your Christmas story.
[Re: Cyrano]
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Anonymous
Anonymous
Unregistered
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This from a member of our writing group.
Charles awoke to the sound of familiar Christmas Carols coming from the radio. While lying in bed the elderly gentleman began reflecting upon all the joyous times in his life that this season had bestowed upon him.
Back in his teen years, before he married, he was so footloose and fancy free that during the Christmas season, the nearness of mistletoe would cause him to grab the first young lady close by and give her the most generous kiss one could ever imagine, having no regard in the least whether or not the young lady wanted to participate in his kiss.
As Christmas came around each year, he began wanting someone to share his life with completely, not just stealing a kiss under mistletoe. Having a wife to come home to would be the answer to his loneliness. Then one day he was blessed with a wife that he loved dearly and a couple of years later another blessing, their first child, a beautiful daughter, Susan. Two years later a fine son was born and they named him Tommy. Then to complete their family a third child, Virginia was brought into the world.
Mary, his precious adorable wife wasn’t haughty like so many girls in his town seem to be but instead she was gracious, charming, but most of all kind and loving. Sometimes during these years of raising their family, his dreams were filled with such happiness and contentment that when he awoke he felt as he was floating on clouds way up in the heavens. Oh how he longed to experience just one more dream like that, so it could take him to a place of such fabulous contentment once more.
As he stumbled downstairs to the kitchen, he thought he heard the laughter of their children from so long ago. Suddenly, to his amazement, there stood his son Tommy. He watched Tommy bring him a chair and the old man sat down. As he sat he felt the arms of his beloved son covering his weary body. “Tommy”, he called out to his son, “where have you been for so very long”?
Charles heard his son’s voice say “Daddy, don’t you remember? I died fighting the Germans in 1943 to keep us free, Mom and you, Virginia and all Americans.”
“Yes, yes son,” Charles replied in a whisper. “We were so proud of you bravery. How much we grieved for you, and missed you with all of our hearts”.
Slowly he rose from the chair, making his way to the ice box. As he reached out and grabbed the door to the box, a scent of the sweetest perfume filled his nostrils. Then a soft compassionate voice said, “Dad, I’ve missed you so.” He realized the voice belonged to Susan, their first born, “Oh my lovely daughter”, her father said, barely able to speak her name, “where have you been for so very long?” “Daddy”, she answered softly, “don’t you remember”, I was an Army nurse stationed at Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941, when the Japanese bombed. I lost my life that day for you and Mom, Tommy, Virginia and all Americans”.
“Oh yes, the old man said, “how deeply your Mom and I, Tommy and Virginia grieved for you but we were so proud of your courage and commitment to America.
Looking into the ice box, he retrieved some milk, then a bowl and cereal from the cabinet. His hand was shaking now as he poured the cereal, when he felt a light touch on his right shoulder. As He looked around what his aging eyes saw was beyond belief. There stood Mary, his wife, the greatest gift God had ever given to him. She stood there smiling so sweetly and the love that radiated from her surrounded him, making his knees wobble so until again sat down in the chair. “Mary, oh Mary my love, how I’ve longed for you,” Charles spoke exuberantly.
“Charles”, she said “just hang on; you will be with me in the near future”.
These words were just what he needed to hear this Christmas Eve morning and the angelic vision of his wife, Mary, who had died years before caused Charles to come alive in his mind and soul once more.
Just as he finished eating his cereal, he heard a knock at the front door. It seemed, as he walked towards the door his strength and energy had been renewed. Opening the door, he discovered carolers singing “Hark, the Herold Angels Sing, Glory to the New Born King”. His eyes filled with tears when he realized these carolers were his own flesh and blood family that had driven many miles to visit him. There stood Virginia, his daughter and her husband Jack, and their three grown children, Susan, Tommy and Mary and their spouses, plus his six great grandchildren who now were all in their teen years.
This he knew for certain was not a vision sent from God but rather they were truly his living family, all together for the first time in many years. How happy he was to see all of them, especially his daughter, Virginia and her husband.
“Come on Dad, get your coat and hat and come with us to the town square to see the Christmas pageant”, Virginia pleaded. “Afterwards we’ll have hot chocolate and cookies and lots of hugs around the Nativity Scene at Church”, Virginia continued.
“Yes, yes” Charles said, laughing for the first time in months. While collecting his hat and coat he looked up to the heavens with thoughts filled with gratefulness for this special Christmas Eve when the Lord had sent him visions of those no longer living that he loved so completely and missed so desperately but most of all for making it possible for all those family members he also loved so much to spend this Christmas with him. This will be a very good Christmas after all, maybe not like those of the past I spent with Mary but a very good Christmas indeed. Merry Christmas to all……
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#20325 - 12/20/09 03:07 PM
Re: write your Christmas story.
[Re: Maureen]
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fletch
stranger
Registered: 03/19/09
Posts: 12
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The Devil Made Us Do It
..... Angels
The Jeep drove to the far edge of the parking lot and stopped near a lighting pole; Daniel wouldn’t return till after dark. He exited and pulled a duffle bag and a box from back. He slung the bag over a shoulder and checked each door locked before setting out for the Save Dollars store.
Before he got there, he heard the bell of the Community Fund volunteer at another store’s entry that he would pass. Daniel was set to visit for a moment if the same man was there as yesterday. He wasn’t. It was a lady, bundled and turning her back against the wind. Daniel dropped coins into the chimney shaped collection affair.
“Thank you, sir. Bless you, and Merry Christmas.”
He nodded. “And a Merry Christmas to you, Mrs. Claus.”
She turned and partially unhid her face from the parka, smiling as he passed.
“Oh, I’m not Mrs. Claus. I’m just an elf.”
He waved, calling over his shoulder.
“And a pretty one, too.”
“You’re not shopping here?” echoed behind him.
He paused and pointed to the adjoining business.
“Save Dollars.”
“Well, thank you again.”
He went into the store, to the back, and changed into his Santa suit. In front of a mirror, he glued on the beard, mustache and eyebrows. If he just didn’t shave, he wouldn’t need the beard; his hair was white. But he did need the pillows to fill out the costume. The hair and glasses came last.
Save Dollars didn’t have a setting for the old gent. Daniel’s son was manager here, and he let Daniel come...encouraged him to come. Santa strolled or sat near the pharmacy and greeted children that came with parents for medicine or supplies. He asked the parents to use his camera, and he promised to mail the pictures when he’d printed them. This provided him with names and addresses.
He would mail the pictures, as promised, but one child would be selected for more. Each year, Daniel saved five hundred dollars from his Social Security and sent it to the child that appeared to be the most likely candidate.
This year’s candidate may be the lad that was speaking with him now.
“And then my daddy went to Afghan…Afghan… “
“Afghanistan?”
“Yes sir. He carried a gun and everything, but he got hurt anyway. He’s in a hospital way over there. We sure do worry. And we pray. Do you know what I want for Christmas?”
“No, Butch. If you’ve sent a letter, I may not have read it yet. My glasses were broken for a while. So would you tell me now?”
“Yes sir. I want my daddy to be okay. And his friends… and is it okay if I ask for one more thing?”
“It sure is, my son. What other thing would you like.”
“If my mama could only find a job. She’s looking real hard.”
“I’ll put those on my list, Butch. And I’ll try real hard to make them come true. I tell you what. I’ll pray the same as you and your mama.”
He hugged the boy and patted the tearful mother on her arm as she took her son’s hand and led him away.
Santa stood and viewed their forms melding into the crowd of shoppers.
“Pardon me, sir. Santa!”
Daniel had been mixing with the children for most of the afternoon. But it wasn’t a child calling. He turned.
“Yes?”
Was it the lady who’d been at the Community Fund chimney? She wasn’t wearing the parka.
“Pardon me,” she repeated. “This may sound a little strange…my asking. But a man came in here,” she looked to her wrist, “Maybe four hours ago. And I never saw him come out.”
She glanced around the store.
“Is this all the employees? Or perhaps I just didn’t see him leave. I’m sorry to bother, I think I may know him, and… “
“Yes?” he encouraged.
“Well, I’m probably wrong, anyway… Thank you Santa.” She touched his arm and turned away as though to go toward the door.
“This man, who is he?”
She pivoted and stepped back toward him.
“An old high school classmate—if it’s him. His name was—is—Daniel Wastone.
“If I should happen onto this Daniel Wastone, whom shall I say is inquiring?”
“Mildred Atkinson. He would know me as Mildred Patrick. If he remembers me at all. He’s tall. Maybe your height, but slender.” She glanced around again.
“I shall keep an eye out for the gentleman.”
He watched Mildred Patrick walk away.
Yes, he remembered her. But days passed before he talked himself into calling. What would he have to say?
To his surprise, conversation was easy. She’d had a great sense of humor back then, and she still did. He called back the next night and it was if they had been friends forever. They could almost finish each other’s sentences. She was comfortable with him. And candid.
“I put up a tree again this year, but I don’t know, Daniel. It just doesn’t seem like Christmas when you’re alone. Well, you know! And dare I even buy Christmas gifts for my grandkids? Stocks are down so.”
“You still have stocks?” he asked. “Well you’re right, it’s Social Security between me and being broke. Guess we’ll have to rob a bank.“
He was joking.
“I guess so.” Her tone said she wasn’t.
The market dropped and her suggestions rose. Was she serious? Daniel warmed to the idea finally, rationalizing that he could send money to all the children on his list. He got excited about planning it.
Mildred was reluctant now. “I don’t know. All I know about robbing banks is from the movies.”
“There’s a problem?”
“Well, yeah. After robbing, they run for the getaway car.”
“So?”
“Look in the mirror, Daniel! We’ll be leaning against the car, wheezing, when cops arrive.”
He needn’t look. She was right.
“We’ll have to get inside when no one’s there. Say… Gold National is building a new branch over on Hillside. I saw the construction site last night, their logo on a sign. Says it’ll open December 21st.”
“You sure? Maybe the sign said Gold National is financing the building.”
He ignored that possibility, continuing with enthusiasm.
“Another sign said Culver Mechanical is doing the heat and air. I know a guy there. He can get a copy of the blueprints. Once the bank’s ready to open, you and I could swoop in during the night before, swoop in through the ductwork and ‘bingo’.”
Sure enough, the next day he called the friend at Culver Mechanical. The friend agreed. Though he confided later that he wondered why Daniel had wanted plans to the new bakery.
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
February 21st. Five AM. Two figures parked the Jeep a block from the rear of the building and crept near. They climbed stealthily up the fire escape and onto the roof. Pulled open a lid and nestled down into the duct.
When they lowered the lid, Daniel turned on his flashlight. Was the duct this small? It had looked larger on the drawing. He squeezed himself alongside Mildred, his breath becoming heavy.
“Hey,” he croaked.
“Get a grip, Daniel,” she chided. “Is that all you men think about!”
“It’s not that. I can’t stand to be confined.”
She elbowed him in the ribs. “Claustrophobia! Come on, Daniel. Think about something else.”
He did. But he didn’t tell her what it was. He hadn’t been so close to a woman since he’d lost Janet. He’d only been this close to Janet when… The robbery became less important to him.
Mildred slithered ahead and they wiggled forward for minutes. Until the flashlight dimmed. Daniel widened his eyes to see ahead.
“May as well go on. There’s a bit of light up there. Must be a vent grille.”
When she tilted her head to look, she sniffed. She sniffed again.
“Donuts. I smell donuts… Daniel, why do I smell donuts?”
“They must have them for the bank opening. Anyway, when we get to the vent, we’ll get our bearings. We may be atop the vault by then.” If we still want to do this.
Mildred wiggled ahead, then turned, finger to her lips. “I hear voices. Someone’s down there. Hear that?”
She looked ahead again. Suddenly flailed about. Croaked as though trying to scream. Daniel thought she said ‘snake’ just as her elbow dislodged the grille, and she tumbled out—tumbled out before he could tell her that the ‘snake’ was air conditioning tubing. He stuck his head out the opening and saw her ricochet off a mountain of cardboard boxes and into a bin.
Daniel reached for her, and he tumbled too. Ricocheted in the opposite direction. Toward a vat that looked like a mortar mixer. Kersplash! He staggered from what seemed like a zillion gallons of batter, wiping at his eyes. Covered from head to toe.
He looked toward the bin, but he couldn’t see Mildred. Only a whirlwind of flour-like silt twisting into the air. Wherever they were, it sure wasn’t a bank vault.
Then, from beneath the whirlwind appeared a figure, solid white, hands held forward. Staggering. Moaning. Looking ever so like Boris Karloff playing ‘The Mummy’. When Daniel had seen the film, a kid then, he’d wet his pants. He almost repeated.
“Run Mildred!” Wherever you are.
He saw a door and reached for it, but it opened at someone pulling.
“Oswald! Just look at you!” The speaker pointed a finger at Daniel accusingly.
Daniel was in—what—a kitchen? Packed with uniformed workers who weren’t working. Just staring, mouths agape. And the speaker, wearing a cap that read ‘Hillside Bakery’. A badge clipped to his pocket spelled ‘Manager’.
“Oswald,” the manager guy repeated. Then shook his head. Turned to the crew as though saying, ‘I told you so’. He sneered back at Daniel.
“Even being the owner’s nephew may not save you.” He took Daniel’s arm and pushed him toward the front door.
“Go home and clean up.”
Daniel was glad to oblige. Hastily. Lest nephew Oswald show up before he did so. He hesitated at the door. Should he look for Mildred? What if the Mummy had her? No. Best to get to the Jeep and think this through. He bolted the whole block. No limping. No wheezing. He started the engine, cranked the steering wheel and pulled toward the bank—the bakery—again.
Even above the roar of the engine, he heard the screams of the workers that rushed from the storefront and across the parking lot. Bowling each other over like so many ten-pins. Those still on their feet didn’t even stop at the cars. Just fled down the street. ‘Manager guy‘ in the lead.
Daniel slowed. He would rescue Mildred.
But it wasn’t Mildred who showed in the doorway. It was Boris! Even scarier under the parking lot lights. Daniel floored the gas pedal and zipped past.
The figure formed a silhouette in his rear view mirror, standing straight, hands on hips. Long legs. Kinda shapely. Daniel had seen that silhouette before. Mildred! He cranked the wheel and circled the building.
The Jeep almost stopped as she climbed aboard. Then it raced away. Its occupants looking ever so like ‘The Mummy’ and an unbaked Gingerbread Man. Both with pounding hearts.
They were sure that every set of headlights belonged to a police car. But what had they done after all? Bent an air duct. That couldn’t be too bad.
Daniel checked the mirror, but that wasn’t necessary to see the flash and hear the explosion.
“What was that, Daniel!”
“I don’t know, but it sounded fierce, didn’t it?”
“Back to my place. We’ll get cleaned up.”
The only thing he had to change into was the Santa suit. Mildred made breakfast as he showered. They ate, and she went to do more than just wipe her face.
Daniel was watching TV when she returned.
“Oh, you stepped out for the paper,” he said, “Why didn’t you let me do that?”
Mildred didn’t answer. She was pointing to the TV screen. Dawn was opening with news crews interviewing people at the site of a demolished building.
“It’s manager guy,” Daniel leaned forward. “And look. There’s Butch’s mother.” He took the remote and increased the audio.
Butch’s mother was animated.
“Who would have thought of a gas line rupturing in a brand new building? If we’d have still been in there we’d have all been killed. There was this apparition. The ghost of Christmas past or Christmas future or Christmas something. It scared us so that we all just ran. But now I know. It was an angel.”
Mildred and Daniel looked at each other. Was it an angel? Was it angels that planned the whole caper?
The interviewer pressed the woman. “And you have even more cause for joy. You said your husband, a GI, is on his way home from Afghanistan.”
She nodded, beaming. “For two months. He was released from the hospital there, and he gets two months at home.”
“And you’d just found this job? What will you do?”
A distinguished looking gentleman beside manager guy took the mike.
“We’re going to rebuild. It’s Christmas, and I’m just so thankful that none of my staff was injured. They will all be paid full salary until we reopen. Finally open, that is.” He smiled toward Butch’s mother. “It will be at least two months.”
The TV blinked to a commercial, and Mildred unfolded the paper to see the headlines.
She read aloud. “Markets Expected To Take Off In New Year—Profits Seen For Everyone.”
She breathed a deep sigh. Then she turned to Daniel.
“You’re a good friend, Daniel. As good as I got.”
“The same back at you, Mildred.”
“Daniel… That heavy breathing back at the bakery?“
“Yes?”
“Was it all to do with claustrophobia?”
He ducked his head. “No... ” He fiddled with the remote. Looked aside. Cleared his throat—to no avail. When he spoke again, it was with choked quiver.
“You still got a nice butt, you know that?”
She giggled. Almost a schoolgirl giggle. She laid her hand atop his on the remote. Laced her fingers into his.
The store blast was repeating on the TV, the intro was spoken by the newsman.
“It is a Merry Christmas!”
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#21683 - 12/15/11 08:37 AM
Re: write your Christmas story.
[Re: Maureen]
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Sorcerer
enthusiast
Registered: 01/04/10
Posts: 215
Loc: United States of America.
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It was a night of incredible magic,
That December the first,
And then they came,
The old northern lights,
Over her Pennsylvania home.
She was a single mother,
Her young boy was only,
But nine years of age.
He watched at midnight,
The blue night sky,
When suddenly it became a lit,
With a golden hue,
A speck of light fell,
Over the shed.
He fished out his boots,
And then without coat,
He crept out of the house,
Opened the door,
And trudged to the shed.
When young Ben,
Was nearly there,
He saw a glow,
Yet was not scared,
He went to the door,
Pushed it aside,
And searched for the glow.
Then he saw, what was glowing,
It was hidden in his father’s crate,
And once it was opened,
It revealed a small bag,
He held it open and fell out a key.
The key then sparked with golden flame,
And when it was free it then lost its glow,
And in the morning of the boy,
All magic was lost,
And he took the key home,
Found the door locked,
And pushed the key in,
Turned the knob.
Into a world,
Of Christmas he stepped,
And he heared the voice,
Welcome my Ben,
He then saw,
His uncle,
Behind the desk,
Of solid mahogany,
Wearing red,
Plump, and old.
He took his nephew and spun him around,
Asked how his mother was and if she was happy,
Ben replied, “Yes sir, she is, but she is lonely,
And misses dad,
Could you please bring him back?”
Old Nick then smiled and said it shall be so,
Now go, for your mother is worried and misses you,
Go back the way you came,
And keep the key safe,
Your father lost it long ago,
And will need it again.
So Ben said goodbye,
And then he walked through the office door, and into his house,
With golden key in the lock.
He crept back to bed,
And soon came his mother,
Her face pale and worried,
From a dark dream,
And when she saw her boy’s
Calm face,
She felt at peace,
To know her boy was safe.
The days passed by the night,
And so it was he never came,
But on Christmas eve, Ben was so alert,
But went to bed,
So disappointed,
And not long after,
When midnight came to pass,
The young mother answered a knock,
And stood in awe of her husband,
There before her eyes.
Then that morning,
Ben awoke,
To hear laughter from below,
He crept downstairs and ran to his father,
And learned his face,
And loved him dearly,
And the key afterwards,
Never stopped glowing,
From Ben’s small hand,
To father’s hand,
The golden key traveled,
And then they all, together, had Christmas,
Santa and all.
_________________________
I'll be back one day.
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