405, Monday Morning

He got the presents wrapped with no problems. He even got through most of the christmas cards just fine.

It wasn't until he got to the last one. The one he'd saved for last.

I'll be home, for Christmas

the radio was tuned to one of those 24/7 christmas stations. He figured it'd help him with the holiday spirit.

You can count on me

The card sat blank on his desk. It was borderline schmoopy. It was deliberately cute. All the others had had some kind of joke or something.

And there'll be snow, and mistletoe

"Dear Mom," he wrote, and his hand froze. Some things, some emotions you can block out. But only for so long.

And presents under the tree.

His hand clenched and he took a deep breath, fighting it. He would not cry. Sure he was alone, but those damn radio people...This was enough. The cards, the letters, these had to be enough.

His first christmas ever would not be-

I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dre-

"SHUT UP!!" With a short verbal outburst, he snatched up the radio and hurled it against the closed door.

*SMASH!!*

ooc: door's closed but knockable. Come investigate noises?