Along Scrooge went, down the Christmas infused street, not caring a snippet: for Scrooge did not care for anything related to Christmas. Not for joy, generosity, decorating, or time with loved ones. He did not care for any of it. Money was his love, his value, his life.He fastened his pace. Passing the bright glistening town Christmas tree without so much as a glance. It had been up right since the first of December; now that it was the 24th people gathered around to celebrate Christmas Eve… but not Scrooge.
“Humbug!” he growled, like a bitter bear, as he walked through carollers. He did not glance at their sweet faces, or hear their harmonic song; you should know he had something else on his mind.
There was cheer in the air on this merry eve, people were radiating Christmas spirit, however as Scrooge hurried by, their merriment was tainted by his absence of Christmas spirit. Could you blame them? Scrooge fastened his pace further.
At last, he reached his house. “Home” was no way to describe it. His blinds were shut, there was not one portrait nor piece of art in any room, a single fire lit his house, for darkness is cheaper. All was as he liked it. He was not concerned with how cold his house was at that moment; he hurried to his safe. Unlocking it with the key he keeps around his neck, only to find the copious amounts of pounds he wanted to check on. His greatest value was safe, his face formed a sort of smile. Not a full smile, a half smile, as though he was not entirely satisfied.
He went to his chair by the fireplace, the same one he goes to everyday. but it was not a special time for him, it is the same as all the other years, or so he thought…
Written by Jess Cook
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