GodRimuru

I had placed a bet on the market with 1.5 odd later when the odd was settled as a win it changed to 1.3 I have completed proofs of it. Is this what is expected of such a reputed site? Disappointed!

Stake Username- GodRimuru Merry Christmas In Advance to Everyone 🎁

’Tis the night before Christmas, and the house is finally exhaling. The mayhem of the past weeks—the preoccupation with shopping, the traces of flour on the countertops, the adhesive on the dining table—have been replaced with a heavy calmness. It is only me, this armchair, and the fire. The fire is crackling with a deep, orange glow that is warm to your bones, not your skin. I am looking at the tree. It is not a magazine tree. It is a little crooked, leaning to the left from where the dog pushed it yesterday. But that is what my chest is aching for in that wonderful, sweet way. I see the reflection of the fairy lights in the windowpane, and for a split second, I see the ghosts of Christmases past superimposed on the glass. I see my mother's hands gingerly taking the porcelain angel from the box, her knuckles swollen but careful. I see the year we had barely any cash, so we made popcorn strings and dried cranberries, giggling because the cat kept chewing on the decorations. I see the year the house was too quiet, with only my sister, because my parents were literally too depressed to celebrate much. I see the year that was so loud with brand-new babies, we thought the roof might burst from the sound. I stretch my arm to touch a particular ornament on a lower branch. It’s a construction paper star, glued together with far too much glitter, which is now curling at the edge after two decades. It was made by my twenty-four-year-old son when he was four. Now he’s upstairs, sleeping in his childhood bed, his feet dangling over the end. The thing with this particular night is, it is a time machine, isn't it? It is in the silence that you see that the magic is not in the large gifts that are wrapped in glittery foil. The magic is in the fact that the love survives. It is in the fact that even though the hard years are full of arguing, full of grief that sometimes takes a seat at our table, that we are still here. That we still hung the lights against the darkness. In the fireplace, a log shifts, spilling sparks into the chimney, jerking me back into the real world. The scent of pine and a trace of burnt sugar hangs in the air. I pull the blanket closer around my shoulders. Tomorrow is going to be loud. There’ll be ripped paper, coffee splattered everywhere, music too loud. But for now, in this golden, flickering glow, everything is just right. Not because it’s been perfectly orchestrated, but because it’s ours. The clock on the mantel is ticking past midnight. "Merry Christmas. We made it. We're here. And that is enough." Stake Username- GodRimuru

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