The first Christmas I was truly on my own, I left a party and drove back to my apartment late on Christmas Eve.
THere wasn't any snow, but the air was sharp and cold.
My breath fogged the windshield of my little car, and my fingers - I had forgotten my gloves - were stiff.
I hunched over the icy steering wheel as I made my way to my empty apartment.
I was 20 years old and I felt as alone as anyone could be.
I was, as Charles Dickens wrote of Ebenezer Scrooge, as solitary as an oyster.
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Related Pieces
Piece Description
The first Christmas I was truly on my own, I left a party and drove back to my apartment late on Christmas Eve. THere wasn't any snow, but the air was sharp and cold. My breath fogged the windshield of my little car, and my fingers - I had forgotten my gloves - were stiff. I hunched over the icy steering wheel as I made my way to my empty apartment. I was 20 years old and I felt as alone as anyone could be. I was, as Charles Dickens wrote of Ebenezer Scrooge, as solitary as an oyster.
Broadcast History
Scheduled for Dec. 19 broadcast on Spokane Public Radio.
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