Beck

Rainbow-hued strands of lights mock me from the rickety balcony above. 

No lights, twinkly or otherwise, have any business being that cheerful, which means I’ve arrived at my sister’s party. I head up the narrow stairs from the garden entrance to the second-floor suite, trying to convince myself I can grin my way through the first holiday party of the year.

Music thrums through the treads, followed by peals of laughter.

Don’t get me wrong—it’s a great party.

I’m just not one for the holidays...