Standing in Front of My Parents’ Old House on Christmas Eve, I Saw the Lights Twinkling Inside and Wondered Why

On Christmas Eve, I stood once more before the house.

The air was colder, the sky a deep, starless black.

My breath hung in the air like a ghost.

The lights inside twinkled as they had before, unchanged.

It was a scene from a dream, or perhaps a memory.

I reached for the key, feeling its cold weight in my hand.

Was I ready to open the door?

To face whatever lay inside?

With a deep breath, I moved toward the porch.

My hand trembled as I inserted the key into the lock.