Outside gently falling flakes settle on the deepening layer of snow already drifting up against the cabin. Inside, an open fire roars, its smoke and flames sucked up the chimney towards the frozen night air. Along one wall of the plain, unmemorable room is arrayed a bank of televisions. On each, scenes of life, of giving, of loving, of cynicism, of compassion. Every action on every screen is noted. In the top left the watcher’s eyes scan as a small child stands crying. A shake of the head and words are scribbled into a enormous, leather bound book. Tired, bloodshot eyes quickly return to the screens: to survey, to judge.
Away from the cabin the routine of daily lives continue. Preparations for that time of year gathering pace: the time for giving, for caring, for family. Throughout the world dusty, memory filled boxes are being unpacked. Plastic trees lovingly re-assembled while crumpled streams of tinsel are untangled for another few short weeks of duty.
Everywhere you go they are up. At home, in the office, in the street, at the shops. Everywhere the golden baubles glisten; nothing escaping the eyes in the cabin.
Children (and adults), never forget – Santa is watching.
These words form my entry into this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction challenge. As this is the last Sunday Photo Fiction before Christmas, I’d like to wish all my fellow story tellers nothing but the best for the festive season!