It was another pure grey evening. The waters were dark and a mist hovered above them. On the shores, Merlin was laying on the grass facing skywards. The grey sky was clotted with grey clouds. A few tiny white snowflakes were shaken loose by the icy howling wind. They fluttered down and landed on Merlin's face. They melted on his nose and eyelashes.
A few were caught in his beanie hat and a few more studded his thick woollen jacket. As the snow got harder, Merlin was becoming a part of the snowdrift settling on the ground. Eventually he got fed up and got up. He trudged back across the ever deepening snow to his old empty house.
As he went, he passed festive houses with glinting lights that made the snow glisten. He could see the trees in the windows all dolled up with sparkling tinsels and shining baubles. He could smell the intoxicating aroma of homemade cinnamon biscuits that perfumed the streets making mouths water. The enchanting harmony of Christmas carols came carried on the whirling wind from a few blocks away. Icy wind and snow pricked his skin making his fingers numb and his nose red.
The majority of the houses had candles in the windows that provided a warm glow thanks to a town tradition that merlin had long forgotten the cause of. Merlin got through all of that to his old forgotten house at the end. Sure there was tinsel around the drain pipe, a few twinkling fairy lights, and an ill-ly decorated fern in the front garden, but that was about it.
Inside, Merlin hung up his jacket and his hat and kicked off his boots. He slumped into a seat in the main room with a sigh. There was a creek from an unoiled door upstairs before it slammed in the wind. The snow fluttered down outside piling up outside. Merlin recognised the fact he was alone. He sighed again. He switched on the TV and set his mind to doing absolutely nothing for the rest of his lonely holiday. Still. Well what else could he do? He had no one to talk to.