‘Tis the Season
By Vivien Dean
The kids in the choir had been forced to don elf costumes, the gym reeked of artificial pine and sweat socks, and Alex Tunney felt like a big fat fraud, sneaking into the last row of the audience with barely five minutes left in the concert program.
The folding chair squeaked as he sat down, earning him a hard glare from a woman wearing bells as earrings in the row ahead of him. He smiled in apology, holding perfectly still until she turned back to the stage. Her earrings jingled louder than he’d been, but nobody gave her a second look.
Either she’s a PTA mom, or they’re all wearing ear plugs.
A boy’s voice cracked on his solo in the chorus of “Jingle Bell Rock.”
Ear plugs would’ve been a brilliant idea.
His late arrival meant enduring only one more so
