Retaining His Sour

John had turned a bit cynical His mind was hardening His skull blew out ideas that did not fit. I have seen everything, he said. What about Christmas? Seen it, done it, wearing the T-shirt. But not this Christmas. Death rattle of his throat told her he was retaining his sour. Have you seen that? What about that? Have you seen that? Seen it, done it, got the T-shirt. She was running out of ideas; he was determined to be obstinate. A snowflake paused in front of his eye sockets. Wait! He said. I have not seen this. She looked at the snow flake. I have never seen this one, he said. This is something new. She watched his heart open.