A Cheesy Christmas A long time ago in a modern society similar to ours far away, it was a cold winter night, and the streets were darkened by shrouds of whispering snow. A thick, cloudy blanket was spread across the road, and it piled into towers at the curb-ends, creating snake-like paths in the ice cracked midnight pavement. A car's bright headlights pierced the tumult and slowly waded its way through the cottony meadow to reach the dilapidated little house at the very end of the street. It belched puffs of diesel that mixed with the snow, and rolled to a stop by the house, callously gazing at the front door. Here it was, the end of the road! Plums tightly gripped the ends of the wheel and let out a soft sigh from behind his scarf, letting his eyes follow the trail of cold mist his breath made. He turned to his companion, Llave, whose glasses frosted over from the cold as he held the special red package tightly in is hands. "This has to be the place," Plums said, turning back to the wheel. "But why'd she have to go and live all the way up here in the Adirondacks? Nobody lives here anymore, ever since that nation-wide food shortage." Llave slowly turned to Plums. Plums tried to avert his gaze from Llave's deep stare, as he always felt uneasy when he couldn't see his companion's eyes behind those snazzy glasses. "You callin' her a nobody?" "She feels like one." Plums picked around something at the end of his gloves. "She broke off contact years ago, and I don't know why this butt would even decide to accept our gift." "Have faith." Plums looked back at Llave. He was staring at the present again. "Have faith?" "Yeah." He looked back to Plums with a smile. "It's Christmas, after all." Plums mumbled something that was lost in the wild winter winds, and turned back to the wheel. - - - Plums, whispering something incoherent to himself from behind his thick purple scarf, repeatedly rung the old house's doorbell. He frantically turned back to Llave, unable to hear a thing in the cold snow, but Llave simply gave a thumbs-up in reply. Eventually, the door opened a crack. Plums tried to look in, but he was stopped by a stringent voice. "Who is this? What do you want?" "Uh," Plums started, looking back at Llave, who walked over to him. "We have something for you." "I don't want any air conditioners, dammit. You salesmen are all the same. I bet you vote Republican too." Plums glanced at Llave. "It's a gift," Llave said. "We'll leave it here, then leave. Stay warm, miss. We hope you have a nice Christma--" "A gift?" Plums paused. "Well, yes." The voice sounded uncertain. "What kind of gift?" Plums looked back at Llave yet again, before looking back at the door and thinking to himself. Ah. "It's something golden." "I don't want your gold!" "It's not gold, it's golden. It's the-- the best we could do." Plums grabbed Llave by the arm and walked down the front steps, telling Llave to leave. They quickly entered the car and drove off. The woman opened the door a bit more, whisked the present inside, and shut it quietly. Once again, the streets were quiet with the winter winds. Inside, the woman sat down on a chair and opened the gift on her lap. The ribbon untangled with a simple pull, and the sides of the box fell away to reveal something that made the woman's eyes light up in amazement. In a black plastic bowl labelled "Panera" sat a mountain of soft, tender pasta shells coated and mixed with bundles of deliciously gooey white cheese. The familiar mac and cheese smell filled her nostrils, and at that moment, time froze around the woman as she remembered the life of her past. The drama; the friendships; the love and hate; the problems, effort, diligence, kindness, and the fruits of labour; the times she spent celebrating the wonders of Christmas with these friends from long ago. She took out the complimentary spoon and tasted a bite of the Panera mac and cheese. Oh, how cheesy those memories were! When she finished, she spotted a note attached to the package. Placing the bowl down and picking up the slip of paper, she began to read it. Spoiler Dear Misty, We miss you, but we hope that you are faring well in this crisis. You are as strong as the Panera mac and cheese that runs through your blood, So we decided to give you something that we thought would warm up your Christmas this December. It's the best we could do for everything you did for us before. Friends are always golden. Here's to a Merry Christmas, Sincerely, Plums, Llave, and Panera Manager Amaury Garcia And she felt tears come to her eyes.
