The city’s streets are festively lighted, full of laughter like a fairy tale. On vacation lots of people come to the “soft breeze” city, as the town is known, searching for it’s colorful caring life. It’s December and December is the month to hope for a better year to come; the month in which the hopeful sparkles on the children’s eyes spreads contagiously to everyone's.
Wrapped in colorful papers toys hold hope, the promise of laughter and that today’s happiness could mean happiness ever after.
Softly the fake snow seems to melt from above the city’s central stage, there’s a fog of lights surrounding the city’s singers.
Another December, the far away stars are beyond the gods, because it’s Christmas and the blinking of artificial lights blinds the sky.
On the benches that surrounds the stage, near the bicolor stones of the sidewalk, away from the crowd of late buyers, a lady sits alone.
The lady is very tiny and weak. On her thin, short and bleached hair she wears some bandages hiding an unimportant wound. It’s possible to see her shaking, even from the distance; hopelessly she lays on her knees as she looks at her bare feet and can’t help but make a wish to Santa.
The lady’s wish isn’t made of written, spoken or thinkable words, but her message echoes, louder than the powerful speakers that amplifies the voice of those who can sing. She holds the antitheses of a song all curled up, and from her silent wish a tear springs, slowly slides and fall.
If there weren’t so many artificial lights in this city, there would be stars available in the sky, instead the only ones visible are the ones money can buy. It’s clear she can’t afford one.
The lady’s wish is only a Christmas Star. Is She going to have Christmas?