One year, Aunt Myrtle gave you a decorative item for Christmas. You didn’t know what it was then, and the one time you asked, she told you it was a candy dish-cum-centrepiece. It looked like some kind of calcified brain. You stuffed it in the trunk of your friend’s car as he left after a weekend of debauchery. You don’t know what happened to that thing, but you like to think that when your friend unpacked the trunk, he screamed a little. If only you’d thought to glue eyes to it.
Don’t be Aunt Myrtle.
Give the gift of words this Christmas.
