From within the shed gleams golden Christmas ornaments. They hang from a miniature tree, its top bent sideways by the low ceiling. Children laugh, sing ancient holiday songs; Men guzzle beer and arm wrestle. The merry music drifts through the ears of passerby, who can only envy the simple merriment.
Within the palace crystal and golden trees stand, painstakingly polished. A live orchestra plays the finer holiday songs. The best foods, the finest wines for royalty. But the venerable humans are frozen like statues, constricted. Passerby glance at the palace and become daunted.
Sometimes a shed is better than a palace.
Within the palace crystal and golden trees stand, painstakingly polished. A live orchestra plays the finer holiday songs. The best foods, the finest wines for royalty. But the venerable humans are frozen like statues, constricted. Passerby glance at the palace and become daunted.
Sometimes a shed is better than a palace.
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