Brendan by Jennifer Domenico

I hate Christmas. Hate. I have my reasons, none of which I talk about. Ever. It suits me just fine to wallow in misery every year from late November to January. I just want to be left alone in my quiet home far away from the nonsense of the season.
Unfortunately, one of Santa’s elves just bought the unit next to mine, sprinkling her ridiculous festive spirit all over my perfectly insulated existence. But she can spread all the Christmas cheer she wants. It has no effect on me.
At least that’s what I keep telling myself.