Christmas Day
his nine-year-old loved her nursery, and she loved climbing trees, and reading her books about history, flowers, and trains. and she loved her father, and he thought of her as he buffed his black Oxford brogues from Loakes in London.
and he thought of her again when he ironed his shirt — how she smiled when he sang songs, how she giggled at his jokes. and then he shed a tear, as he knotted his tie and locked the front door, and set out for the Christmas mass held in her memory.
she loved trees, and trains—
he dresses in the cold house
for the mass. her mass.
