The morning after the investor gala, I awoke to the quiet stillness of the weekend. With my mug of coffee warming my hands, I wandered through the mansion, the faint aroma of pine drawing me toward the living room.
There it stood.
The massive Christmas tree, which had arrived late yesterday afternoon, now commanded the centre of the room. Its height was impressive, nearly brushing the ceiling, and the deep green of its branches filled the space with a freshness that felt almost out of place in the pristine elegance of the house.
I sipped my coffee, studying it. The tree was bare, of course—its decorations still stored somewhere in the depths of the estate. I couldn't help but picture what it would look like fully dressed in lights and ornaments, but something about the blank canvas pulled at me.
