A Butt for the Holidays: A Christmas Fable
The air tastes like electricity. Stairs are no obstacle; I take them four at a time. If Mom saw, she would be furious. Dad would pretend to be furious, too, but he’d secretly be proud of my stair-leaping prowess. I am the best Stair Jumper in the house. Downstairs, the scene couldn’t be more perfect. Pine needles. Tin ornaments. Bulbs straining to give off light without catching fire. Dozens of neatly-wrapped gifts. Except Debra is there, too. She’s up. She’s awake. Debra. The girl who eats salt in the morning and spits it at people the rest of the day.…