Sybil Bruncheon's "Christmas... and the morning after..."

Yep, one day you're a super star! An international icon for the entire world! Copied, admired, immortalized in theatre, film, art; written about and TO by millions of adoring fans, the subject of more songs than any other figure in history... and then... you're dumped! Snubbed, forgotten, tossed aside like the withered pine trees in the gutters with their sad tinsel and the odd orphan ornament still hooked into a back-branch. It's 6 in the morning on the 26th, and your only pal is some middle-aged waitress named Maureen, sneaking a smoke after she brings you a cuppa joe and yesterday's pumpkin pie... but it's a double-sized slice, not because she likes you, but because it's all that's left in the dented pie tin, and the crust is missing from half of it... and nope! No whipped cream…

Still, unlike other has-beens or never-weres, you have a little good news, albeit about 11 months away. You'll "be back"... with all the glamour and glitter that a celebrity in fur and velvet like you lives for. So you pay the check, tip Maureen 30%, and head out to the alley behind the diner by the dumpster where you parked. And then, it's up, up, and away!... a flight home. A really long flight home, where your wife is waiting... a nice hot shower and a warm bed. …oh, and a few letters that just arrived...

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