The Cold Wind Blows The Lamp's Dying Flame

"Achoo!"

"Bless you. Here, a tissue."

The white powders of snowfall rained down upon the residential area. A storm was evident, judging by the unrelenting wind rattling the windows of every building. It was obvious enough, and a no-brainer, to say that this wasn't the most amazing time to walk anywhere outdoors.

Inside the fully-detached Craftsman house of Number 8 located at Kiellan Street, near the forest corners at the end of the road, where the snow was thinner from the forested leaf covers, was where a family of four once stayed.

"How's Dad?"

"Not very well. He's been stuck in the room, sleeping 24'7, couldn't even eat. I'm thinking he..."

"Don't say that. The doctors have already said, two more weeks minimum."

A tea-sipping Gizzy sat on the recently cleaned counter tops, shaking their legs in a relaxed manner, while Lexie was unknowingly biting on her keratin-made hooves. While that, an undecorated plastic tree sat immovably near the non-covered rectangular window, and the fireplace owning a dying flame. The baubles and string lights were left on the floor, untouched by anyone, anything.

"I'm going to check on him, just to be sure," Lexie stood up slowly with bones even audibly cracking from her sudden motion, "You coming?"

"Nah, I'll just  be down here," they answered, putting down the cup glazed with the words 'I *Heart* Mum', "Gotta start decorating this sad old place."

"Mmhm..."

Right after disappearing up the stairs, the reindeer sighed, before getting off the counter top, and sat on the rugged floor of the empty living room, which was also recently cleaned. It would be unbelievable to think that there were once hundreds of untidy papers, books, wide-opened folders, and tossed pillows that messed the floor.

"Now... to start with the lights, or these balls first?" They thought, holding up one hand a part of the bendable wires, and the box of baubles on the other, "Mm... lights, I guess."

With a slow pace, they stringed around the tree like a web, twirling around, and on its thick branches and unnaturally glossy leaves, all the way to the highest level it could go. And plugging in what remains from the other side, the lights lit up with brightness.

Well... before dying again with a soundless 'poof'.

"*Sigh* Can't expect much from old lights," Gizzy backed off the tree, sitting on the springy couch, "Damn, was not expecting to go upstairs.

With a depressing exhale, the caribou got on their feet (well, hooves), and walked up the creaking stairs. But before they could, something curvy under their flat hooves nearly made them slip, if it wasn't for a nearby couch arm.

"What in the..." Gizzy balanced back. Looking under, it was some kind of small ball ornament, one that had probably unluckily fell and roll over to walking pathways.

"This is..." They took the ornament up. And the familiar scratches and snowman symbols on its blue, metallic shell reminded them of... "How could this still be... here?"

~~~~~~~~~~

"Hello, hello, anyone in?"

"Lexie, come in."

The breathy, rough voice was not an amazing indication to Lexie's small, triangular ears, not with how the situation had worsened so far into the day.

"Hey, Dad," Lexie entered, dodging downwards from hitting her tall, annoying antlers, "How are you now? Can you finally eat something? Do you need to..."