“Is it me or are bells ringing?”
Father stirred, “It’s nothing.”
Down the hall another stirred. Jarrod was seven.
Again there was the faint sound of bells. Only Jarrod heard. He knew it’d be their kitten playing with decorations.
In his dressing gown he shuffled out of the room, creeping downstairs so his parents wouldn’t hear.
Near their tree was a man in a red suit. Jarrod was about to let out a yell when the man turned. He put his finger to his mouth to signal quiet.
“Merry Christmas, Jarrod,” he said in a whisper as he disappeared.
Jarrod smiled, “No one will believe my blog.”