- 814
- #21
In this essay, I will...
Character: https://endlessvo.id/p/21
Entry:
Ax didn’t celebrate Christmas. If they thought too hard about it, they might have actually hated the whole thing. But it had been good for sales, they told themself firmly. Hand-crafted knickknacks and second-hand upcycled furniture had been at a premium this season, and Ax had done pretty well for themselves selling in their kooky store, packed to the brim with anything and everything they made or found or both.
As they locked up the shop, pulling down the shutters and clicking the alarm system on, Ax looked upwards, to the stars. It was difficult to make them about above the light pollution fo the city, one of the (very few) things Ax missed about living out in the hicks. Still, as they squinted, they could just about make some out, and a smile ghosted across their face.
They might hate christmas, secretly, but there was always thing to enjoy about the season. Ax hummed to themself as they bopped to some tunes on their way home, one earphone in and the other out. Just in-case. They raised a hand to others they recognised shutting up shop, and stopped halfway home to invite Janey to the gathering on their roof, tonight. She declined, as Ax expected, but they came to an Ax-insistent compromise that she took twenty bucks and one of their thermos’s - she chose soup, rather than hot chocolate.
The other thermos’s soon ran out by the time he’d got home. They hadn’t invited the others, didn’t know them well enough yet, but they’d doled out advice and thermos’ and the overflow from the till in equal measure, and also their coat to one particularly cold looking lady. It’s alright, they had spares - buying in bulk from the local surplus store was annoying to store, but it helped Ax out in other ways.
Ax headed up to their apartment, unlocking the stairwell as they did so. Technically what they were doing was illegal, but honestly as long as the rent got paid and they didn’t wreck the place, the landlord - a lovely but terrifying old lady with as many cats as Ax wished they could have - didn’t care. She was ‘unaware’ of Ax’s activities, of course - gatherings on the roof? Obviously residents gathering to celebrate the season. Nothing more.
They picked up the tin of cookies she’d made for the gathering and smiled. Each one had been iced carefully in warm colours, and beneath the cookies was another package of gloves and scarves - hand knitted it looked like, but they could have been store bought and it wouldn’t matter - the people Ax had invited would appreciate them, and if they didn’t fit they’d pass them on.
Ax never mentioned the gloves and scarves in their thankyou note - after all, what use would residents have for them. No, they thanked her for the cookies only, and included a tiny feline ornament (hand fired, glazed and painted) wearing a tiny scarf.
The gathering was many things. A chance for people to remember those who couldn’t make it this year, for good or for ill. A chance for hot food and drink (non-alcoholic only, Ax was strict on that) for those who couldn’t get it elsewhere (shelters were notoriously hard to get into on the regular, and even moreso during the festive season.), and a chance, Ax silently admitted to himself, to catch up with friends who had helped them out when they were worse off.
Sam’s sharp but gap-toothed smile, Ellie’s thin hands that shook and shook but were so delicate when applying makeup. Jay’s beard was even starting to look impressive instead of scraggly now, which was a source of jokes from the rest of them. Names and faces blurred a little, later in the evening, as time wore on. Not from alcohol, Ax had learnt that lesson, but more from genuine joy and also maybe the fact they hadn’t slept in a while. They drifted off with Ellie’s shaking hands brushing out their hair, pillowed on Sam’s chest, slurring their words because of tiredness as they tried to convince Jay to glitter their beard.
In the morning the others had to leave early ; to stake out the best spots, or gather their belongings before a sweep came. Ax surfaced badly each time someone left what could charitably be called the pile of bodies, only to be soothed by whoever was left.
Ellie, who left last and still too early, gently pressed a chaste kiss onto their wrist.
“Thanks, Ax. For everything.”
Blurrily, they mumbled something back - probably something too truthful, judging by the pinched look on Ellie’s face, and the way she hugged them tight before lockiing the door as she left.
Ax slipped back into sleep - for once their mind quiet and content.
Character: https://endlessvo.id/p/21
Entry:
Ax didn’t celebrate Christmas. If they thought too hard about it, they might have actually hated the whole thing. But it had been good for sales, they told themself firmly. Hand-crafted knickknacks and second-hand upcycled furniture had been at a premium this season, and Ax had done pretty well for themselves selling in their kooky store, packed to the brim with anything and everything they made or found or both.
As they locked up the shop, pulling down the shutters and clicking the alarm system on, Ax looked upwards, to the stars. It was difficult to make them about above the light pollution fo the city, one of the (very few) things Ax missed about living out in the hicks. Still, as they squinted, they could just about make some out, and a smile ghosted across their face.
They might hate christmas, secretly, but there was always thing to enjoy about the season. Ax hummed to themself as they bopped to some tunes on their way home, one earphone in and the other out. Just in-case. They raised a hand to others they recognised shutting up shop, and stopped halfway home to invite Janey to the gathering on their roof, tonight. She declined, as Ax expected, but they came to an Ax-insistent compromise that she took twenty bucks and one of their thermos’s - she chose soup, rather than hot chocolate.
The other thermos’s soon ran out by the time he’d got home. They hadn’t invited the others, didn’t know them well enough yet, but they’d doled out advice and thermos’ and the overflow from the till in equal measure, and also their coat to one particularly cold looking lady. It’s alright, they had spares - buying in bulk from the local surplus store was annoying to store, but it helped Ax out in other ways.
Ax headed up to their apartment, unlocking the stairwell as they did so. Technically what they were doing was illegal, but honestly as long as the rent got paid and they didn’t wreck the place, the landlord - a lovely but terrifying old lady with as many cats as Ax wished they could have - didn’t care. She was ‘unaware’ of Ax’s activities, of course - gatherings on the roof? Obviously residents gathering to celebrate the season. Nothing more.
They picked up the tin of cookies she’d made for the gathering and smiled. Each one had been iced carefully in warm colours, and beneath the cookies was another package of gloves and scarves - hand knitted it looked like, but they could have been store bought and it wouldn’t matter - the people Ax had invited would appreciate them, and if they didn’t fit they’d pass them on.
Ax never mentioned the gloves and scarves in their thankyou note - after all, what use would residents have for them. No, they thanked her for the cookies only, and included a tiny feline ornament (hand fired, glazed and painted) wearing a tiny scarf.
The gathering was many things. A chance for people to remember those who couldn’t make it this year, for good or for ill. A chance for hot food and drink (non-alcoholic only, Ax was strict on that) for those who couldn’t get it elsewhere (shelters were notoriously hard to get into on the regular, and even moreso during the festive season.), and a chance, Ax silently admitted to himself, to catch up with friends who had helped them out when they were worse off.
Sam’s sharp but gap-toothed smile, Ellie’s thin hands that shook and shook but were so delicate when applying makeup. Jay’s beard was even starting to look impressive instead of scraggly now, which was a source of jokes from the rest of them. Names and faces blurred a little, later in the evening, as time wore on. Not from alcohol, Ax had learnt that lesson, but more from genuine joy and also maybe the fact they hadn’t slept in a while. They drifted off with Ellie’s shaking hands brushing out their hair, pillowed on Sam’s chest, slurring their words because of tiredness as they tried to convince Jay to glitter their beard.
In the morning the others had to leave early ; to stake out the best spots, or gather their belongings before a sweep came. Ax surfaced badly each time someone left what could charitably be called the pile of bodies, only to be soothed by whoever was left.
Ellie, who left last and still too early, gently pressed a chaste kiss onto their wrist.
“Thanks, Ax. For everything.”
Blurrily, they mumbled something back - probably something too truthful, judging by the pinched look on Ellie’s face, and the way she hugged them tight before lockiing the door as she left.
Ax slipped back into sleep - for once their mind quiet and content.
