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The Night Of The Once Forgotten Christmas
Silently, stoically Roger Smith stood at the widow's watch from his mansion in the middle of Paradigm city. It was night and the whole world was cloaked in darkness. Paradigm city however; was vibrantly lit up like the Christmas tree in Roger's living room. Abruptly a small ashen particle landed in his coffee. Turning his eyes up towards the dim sky he saw what looked like a flurry of albino bees. It was snowing!
"Well this is something you don't see to often," Roger remarked taking a much needed sip from his ceramic mug. "Ah the snow, so endless and beautiful, and all such a mystery to those that live outside the domes," he continued watching the billions of pale flakes land on the roof of his mansion. There was something also quite haunting about the snow. Whenever it came Roger felt something rise within his mind and soul.
It was like a mystic and unknown feeling like a corpse rising from the bottom of a lake to the surface. Roger sometimes wondered if it was a memory that someone had lost that his being some how recovered. When ever Roger saw the snow he felt like he was in another life, taking up someone else's occupation, doing what they have always done. And these thoughts of uncertainty only came when the snow fell to the Earth. However; this was something he also enjoyed, because perhaps he was rekindling the torch. While some individual may have lost now lived with him; it was hard for him to think about such a theory when he didn't even understand it either himself.
"Roger." A cool female voice called from behind him. He looked over his shoulder and saw R Dorothy standing in the doorway wearing that exquisite silk red dress he had bought her for the occasion. It almost exactly mirrored that same outfit she had worn when he heard her sing that song a mechanical bird. The big difference was the green trim and golden earrings that came with the outfit.
"Dorothy, you look more beautiful than words could even try to express," Roger said walking over to her and placing a warm hand on her thin shoulder.
"Thanks," she remarked in her accustomed monotone voice. Roger just smiled and shook his head. She didn't fully have to comprehend human emotions to understand what his words intended.
"Why don't we go inside, it's always pretty to watch the snow from a fire," he said leading her into the mansion.
Inside his den he sat down on his comfy soft sofa and gazed deeply into the crackling and dancing flames from his fireplace. He had given Norman the night off and he was off with some friends. They went to go see a play at the Paradigm music hall, it was a great place to see a well crafted production. Friends They were something Roger didn't have many of. While Roger may have been affluent, successful, and in his opinion a smooth dresser, he didn't have many people to share these moments and these nights with. However, it didn't matter because he had a true guest at his home, sweet music. Roger recently bought a drum machine that played steady rhythms and electronic bass lines. They both harmonized perfectly with Dorothy's soft and tranquil gelatos and beautiful melodies on Roger's piano. Serenely he closed his eyes and felt his mind drift to an abyss of true euphoria and tranquility.
"Roger." Again it was that soft and sweet female voice that manager to shatter everything around him. He opened his eyes and answered Dorothy.
"Yes Dorothy."
"Do you ever feel like you are alone?"
"That's an unusual and deep question coming from you." And indeed it was. Very rarely did Dorothy ever ask Roger about anything, most of the time it was never about personal matters either. "Well I think we all feel like that sometimes Dorothy, but I'm a fortunate man. I'm great companions with solitude, so I never feel out of place or even the slightest bit lonely."
"I see," the android girl responded.
"However, I am a very fortunate man tonight."
"Why is that?" Dorothy asked looking away from her sheet music.
"Because I get to spend the night with someone as special as you, that is a luxury only I will enjoy this evening," Roger spoke grinning at Dorothy. Seeing the reflection of the flames in her dark eyes made it almost seem like she had a spiritual soul of her own.
"Thank you," she said in a low soft voice. Roger got up from where he sat to go get more wood for the fire. Dorothy on the other hand turned back to her music and smiled for the first time in her existence.
Down stairs Roger heard a knock on his front entrance. It was Dustan, and as usual with a bottle of whiskey and a soul of gold. He came up stairs and watched the fire for a little while with Roger and had few shots. It was these rare and simple moments that made Christmas so memorable for Mr. Smith.