As Christmas draws near, in the shadowed corner of a dark room sits a lonely character. Head in hands, solemn in appearance.
A closer look shows that the forlorn figure is male. Photos and pieces of paper are scattered round him, words running together into one.
'It's all my fault' I hear him whisper under his breath, over and over.
One piece of paper stands out. Its more pictures than words, but I can see 'Daddy' clearly. On the same piece of paper there is a family of three drawn - next to Daddy is Mummy, and between them is a small child with a smiling face, wearing the largest grin I have ever seen.
Next to the tear stained letter is an official looking document – 'Leave Granted' in big red letters embossed across the hard to make out text on the page.
'If only the weather could change......snow.......go.....' Something I have heard a lot of recently, but this person is surrounded by heat. 'This is going to take some working out' I think to myself slowly.
As my snow globe takes me outside the room, I see sand and wasteland, but no reason to change the weather.
Back into the room, I see a name tag on the males clothes – Sgt. Miles. I turn to Mr Claus and say 'It's time we speak with Mother Nature - we have a very important person to bring Christmas to'.
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