The smell of gingerbread baking filled the house with
memories of holidays past when the family would fill the table, and laughter
was the joy of the season.
Being with friends and making new ones ringing in the new
year in basement bar rooms scattered throughout the normally quiet
neighborhoods of my home.
Postcards of silent nites that could have been the street I
lived on. My winter holidays will forever burn brightly in my memories of days
long forgotten by most but remain with me like the smell of gingerbread baking.
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