He closed his eyes.
Three figures waited by the tree. Their faces were his, but younger. Sharper. Smiling like wolves who’d learned to wrap presents. Igra --Santaz incesta-- -v0.1.7-dev- Avtor- Slutogen
Santa — or whoever wore the coat now — stumbled through the chimney and landed in a living room that smelled of mulled wine and something wrong. He closed his eyes