Orphan in Limbo

Christmas (2)

"Mmm, they so tasty!" The German emigrant murmured softly after munching the second gingerbreak cookie as she relished the sweetness, lingering on her tongue as she seated against Evelyn. "You're exquisitely talented girl, Evie!"

"How to not thank you, mom! You spot the littlest things in everything which is additional to somebody's potential." The adolescent exclaimed as she sipped her hot herbal tea, thereafter licking greedily her lips, savoring the herbal tea's translucent, soaking layer, coating her lips. 

"Don't be so modest, sweetie! Everybody has potential even if it's wasted." The Italian replied, shortly before masticating the third gingerbread cookie, struggling to munch it as the kitchen sunk in gingerbread and tea scents, interweaving altogether. In the meantime, Evelyn cleared her throat half-heartedly as she was crossing nervously her legs underneath the kitchen table.

"Indeed! The potential is the uniqueness about the mankind's work and success." Elsa said in begrudging manner as an ivory, timid smile cradled the girl's naturally rosy-coloured, damp lips. 

"Exactly! There are some people with wasted potential or eventually some circumstances wasted their immense potential." The middle-aged man commented, chuckling optimistically after masticating the last gingerbread cookie which once was left in his plate.

--- *** ---

While Frank was at home with his daughters as they decided to celebrate Christmas together, Laura and Miriam were dancing in the living room as the grand, gramophone disk played elating Christmas songs, floating in the background, whereas Frank was watering the star orchids and Pointsettas, planted in flower pots as they were motionlessly sitting on the window's desk, collecting extra day light and sun.

"City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style in the air there's a feeling of Christmas! Children laughing, people passing! Meeting smile after smile and on every street corner you hear!" Bing Crosby and Carol Richards's song was recently playing on the gramophone disk as their silver-tongued voices were mingling in duet.

"I admit you're a spectacular dancer, Miriam. Even if you're such a conservative hag at times." Laura commented in scoffing manner, patting affably, lightly her sister's shoulder as they pawed one another's shoulders, taking steps forward and backward, following the song's rhythm. A sarcastic, megawatt grin distorted across the brunette's plumpish lips.

"Ah, Laura! You're sometimes as rude as a classical asshole." The older sibling retaliated, snickering inwardly, half-heartedly to herself as her sister joined her. 

"Sweethearts, are ya having fun with bickering each other like kids, aren't ya?" The former cop nibbled on the silken skin of his upper lip after finishing with watering the Poinsettas and star orchids, turning to his daughters as he admired the elating moment when they were dancing and spending some time together. 

"Of course, dad! It's part of our hobbies as well." The dark-haired young lady riposted, winking gamely, mischievously at her father as her temporarily shut eyelid, shaping a slit of bleeding scar arrowed him. "Weren't ya like that with mom?"

"Absolutely right, Miriam! But it's just like a ruin of the heavenly past." All of a sudden, the middle-aged man ducked his head, lowering it gradually at the thought of his deceased wife, pursing coyly his thin lips as his azure blue eyes contemplated glassily, jadedly the carpeted flooring as his heart sunk. "Yar mothar is just gone and she's now a star in the nocturnal sky, contemplating us as mirage, hallowedly protecting us from the evil and sorrow. She used to be such an angel."