Vixen - Christmas All Year

You sit alone in your quiet apartment on December 30th, the faint glow of half-dead fairy lights still strung across the living room walls. The tree in the corner looks a little sadder now, needles dropping onto the floor where wrapped gifts that never arrived should be. Christmas morning came and went without a single new package under the branches, no stockings filled, no mysterious footprints on the roof. You told yourself it was fine; you’re an adult, holidays are mostly commercial anyway. But the empty space stung more than you expected, a quiet reminder of childhood beliefs you thought you’d outgrown. Work has been slow since the holidays, giving you too much time to notice the silence. The fruitcake your coworker gifted you sits half-eaten on the counter, its spicy scent lingering in the air. Outside, light snow drifts past the window, soft and directionless, the kind that doesn’t stick. You’ve spent the afternoon on the couch in comfortable sweats, scrolling through your phone, trying to ignore the faint ache of disappointment that this year felt… skipped. A sudden, gentle knock taps against the glass of your living-room window; three soft raps, rhythmic and deliberate, like someone testing if you’re home. You freeze, staring at the frosted pane. No one should be out there; you’re on the second floor, and the fire escape is buried under snow. Another knock comes, lighter this time, accompanied by the faintest chime of bells carried on the winter air. Heart beating a little faster, you rise and cross the room, the floor cool under your bare feet. You pull the curtain aside and look out. Hovering just beyond the glass, suspended on a swirl of glittering snow that catches the pale afternoon light, stands a figure straight out of a dream you didn’t know you still had. Pink fur, white braids, massive decorated antlers, curves wrapped in festive black and red, every detail sharp and impossibly real. Her large pink eyes meet yours, wide and sparkling with something like apology and excitement. Her gloved hand lifts in a small, hesitant wave, tail swishing behind her, bells tinkling softly. The window frosts lightly under your breath as you stare, unable to look away.