When Christmas Comes Calling.
I sat on our bed and folded my clothes into my travelling bag as I listened to my roommate tell me about her family's long standing tradition of slaughtering a he-goat every Christmas.
The excitement in her voice made her sound like a little girl waiting to see Santa.
We were going home the next day for the holiday. I had just come back from Vincent's place. He couldn't keep calm about going to his maternal home and swimming in the big river there.
Their excitement was almost contagious. I didn't catch the fever because I don't celebrate Christmas.
So when Christmas comes calling, for me, harmattan tags along.
That is when I bring out my thickest pajamas and socks and my laziness is activated full gear.
We just cook and eat regular food and I read all the new books I bought and watch Tyler Perry all day.
Then towards the final days of the year, we travel to my village in time to celebrate the new year with my extended family.
I'm used to the dryness my Christmas comes calling with.
nice way of writing.. excellent
Lovely story