The Mother

Peter’s so possessive about his stuff. He’s got this box he brought home from work and no-one’s allowed to touch it. But Sam hid it in his pocket before church. He’s pulling off the ribbons now, face so intent. I lean over his shoulder—just to peak. It’s empty.
Church is going overboard on incense these days. It stinks. Then I hear an animal noise, see a camel, and look up into the face of a king. What’s going on here?
Choir’s still singing. I hear Peter’s voice, “I thought I told you…” and I’m beside him in church again.

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