Christmas Music Polar Express Novels & Stories

December 23rd, 11:49 p.m. Inside the house, the Christmas party is buzzing with fifty people mingling under the twinkling lights, Bing Crosby's smooth voice crooning "White Christmas" in the background, and the air thick with the cozy scents of cinnamon and bourbon. Dad's booming laugh echoes from the living room, where he's belting out off-key carols with his boss, totally oblivious to the tension that's been simmering all night between me and Marcus.

a man in a blindingly green elf getup informed me, jiggling the silver-wrapped horror in my face. I blinked at him. "She sings?" He nodded, much too enthusiastically. "Tchaikovsky's 'Waltz of the Flowers' in four variations." I blinked again. "You're frightening, you know that?" He just grinned like it was a compliment. I gave in and bought the accursed thing. For whom? No idea. Maybe it could be a decent present for . She seemed the type who would find an outrageously melodramatic decoration to her liking. The mall was replaying Mariah Carey for the tenth time in an hour, and each turn I took resulted in more glitter, fake snow, and wailing children. I was trudging along with four bags, rem

But the song he was hearing was uplifting his mood - “Give love on Christmas Day…No greater gift is there than love.” “What beautiful lyrics.” Polly thought. He stayed there for a while and listened to some more songs playing in the background. “I think I’m gonna love Christmas.”

he mutters, rubbing his neck, “about that...” “Eh!” I shout, not wanting to turn his emotions into something sour, “I know all about your troubles, Santa.” I wiggle my nose, “I know the North Pole has been especially cold this year, and Santa's had to be very frugal this Christmas.” He nods, “I'm glad you understand.” I shake my head. “That doesn't mean Santa gets off scot-free.” He puffs out his chest, putting on his best deep Santa voice, “What can

"Daddy, why are you crying?" My trembling gaze lifted. Only then did I realize my face was already covered in tears. I was overwhelmed with guilt and heartbreak toward Noelle. Perhaps I also felt hatred for Ivana. However, right now, I had to stay cheerful and accompany Noelle through the last moments of her life. I turned off my phone screen, wiped away my tears, and said, "Sweetheart, I'm just too happy. Tonight is Christmas Eve, and you will be safe and sound." Less than half a minute later, Ivana finally called me back.

"I just realized I haven't bought them a puppy yet. Sorry about that, but, got so depressed at what happened when we last met…" "It's ok. There's still tomorrow…" "But it won't be Christmas then. I still have half an hour until midnight. And I think I know just the thing." In just a few moments, the twins were squealing excitedly and laughing delightedly at the gigantic black "puppy" that was willing to play, romp and give them piggyback rides. Finally, all the twins' wishes for Christmas were now complete. Merry Christmas, dear reader… See you this New Year!

A storm behind the smiles. Maybe it was me. Maybe it was him. Lena shot across the room like a chaotic missile, skidding into me with a hug that knocked the breath from my lungs. “Jesus Christ, you look like a Disney princess who failed the survival side quest,” she said, tugging my hood down. “Did he cheat with a girl? A guy? A whole choir? Spill.” I choked on a laugh—weak, cracked. “Guy.” She froze. Then whispered, “Oh sweetie… that is spectacularly awful. Well done. You win Christmas.”

I stand alone on the icy field, turning back every few minutes to look at the road behind me. When my hands grow numb from the cold, I scroll my social media feed and see a recent post from my younger sister, Giada Soave. Holding gifts in her arms, she sits beneath a luxurious crystal Christmas tree with my parents embracing her from both sides. Ivano stands behind her with his hand resting lightly at her waist and his eyes full of tenderness. The caption reads, "Merry Christmas, I'm grateful to spend the holiday with those who love me most!" The comments section buzzes with blessings, praise, and envious messages.

I say. Jack turns on the stereo and plays Christmas music so loud. “Okay now open them!” He says loudly. I open my eyes and I cannot believe what I’m looking at. I’m so speechless, it’s like the most beautiful Christmas house I’ve ever seen. It’s so beautiful there’s fairy lights at every corner, crystal reindeers and a sleigh in the front lawn, a wreath with red bows by the door. It started snowing so much, everything is covered with a layer of white snow!

Maybe…] [I’m just asking, are you in or not?] Thor the Tiger cut him off. There was more silence until Tusker the Elephant eventually nodded. [Alright.] I watched, tense. Christmas was getting closer, and if Thor the Tiger started a riot and broke out, who knew how many people might be killed? Moreover, if the other animals followed and burst from their enclosures, the consequences would be unimaginable. People would die or get injured, and the animals would be put down.