Paradoxical notions filled Carol’s head as the face of her watch glared eight pm. ‘Is it still Christmas day?’ She mused, ‘Christmas night-day perhaps?’ Her watch seemed to flare in response.

It was a short walk home from her parent’s house, where she had spent yet another Christmas. The night air was crisp and her breath resembled that of Puff the Magic Dragon’s from her favourite childhood book; which had nursed her through both the chickenpox and bouts of earache. The song began to resonate in her head and her footsteps fell into rhythm.

Nothing much had changed in a year, except her parent’s comments about, ‘Happiness’ and ‘Meeting Mr. Right,’ becoming more poignant. There was that word again….’Happiness’, that indescribable adjective that seemed to mean everything to everyone, yet remained elusive and unquantifiable.

As she neared her home in Cherry Lane, she contemplated the rest of her evening alone in her flat…a luxurious bubble bath perhaps… and this song in her head…then she noticed movement outside her door.

He smiled warmly. Her puzzled look gave way to his obvious predicament of trying to alert the attention of his partying friends in the neighbouring flat. She opened the communal door as he introduced himself and invited her to join him. She checked her watch as if to postpone an immediate decision. With the song still looping in her head, she muttered defiantly, “It is still Christmas day!”
“Jack, happy to meet you,” he continued, “I live near the sea”...