The Perfect Tree

The Perfect Tree By Kassandra Lea Last Christmas Making his way down the hallway Mica Daly shuffled through the normal collection of bills and junk mail. One bright red envelope caught his eye and the scrawl on the front was very much his mother’s writing. A ghost of a smile played across his lips. Can always count on mom to send an old fashioned card in the mail. And it would likely contain a check or a restaurant voucher, momma always worried her boy wasn’t getting enough to eat in the big city. Mica slipped a key in the lock and breezed into his tiny apartment. While the hallway smelled odd, for some reason it always seemed to be that way, the pleasant aroma of cinnamon greeted him in his place. The best smell of the season. Besides mom’s apple pie. He kicked the door closed with his heel and tossed his keys on the nearby counter. On second thought he ditched the majority of the mail, plucking out the card. Slipping out of his shoes and jacket he moseyed over to the couch, sinking onto the worn cushion. One of these weird shades of green plastic trees sat on the coffee table. With the push of a button he turned on the strand of battery operated lights. There were no ornaments on the tree save a sparkly felt snowflake topper. Three gifts lay under its little branches. A box wrapped in old newspaper comics from his best friend. An envelope from his boss that would turn out to be Mica’s pleasing holiday bonus. And a little box in plain blue wrapping from his girlfriend. Ex, don’t forget to stick an ex before the ‘G’ word. She made it perfectly clear she didn’t want to see you after that last fight. Another failed relationship. Another Christmas spent alone. Mica sighed, adding the card to the meager stack. Tomorrow was the big day; he’d open things in the morning, though he wasn’t entirely sure what to do about her gift. Keep it; give it back, what was the usual protocol? There was only the fleeting touch of guilt that he hadn’t bought her a gift, probably because he knew on some level the whole thing was going to fall apart. “One of these years,” he said, staring at the twinkling lights on his little tree. “Some Christmas in the future I won’t be alone and I’ll do everything right. It’ll be like a holiday special.” Quite by surprise he felt the burn of tears in his eyes. You’ll get it right. There’s going to come a Christmas when you’ll be with someone you love.