A presence hung around the houses full of Christmas glitter. There were so many, but the presence cloaked them all. It was a waiting, wondering presence, and no one noticed it because the times had turned since such things resonated in the human consciousness. The houses shone with electricity and tinsel, bright glass baubles and not so bright plastic ones. The air hummed with invisible waves, the twittering of shows, brittle, pointy voices, the throb and thrum of rhythms, the jerky zapping of channels and the whine of disappointment and tired fractiousness.

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