Glo,oooo,o,oooo,o,oooo,oria, in excelsis Deo

by 3arn0wl

When she was little it had made her feel special – she was the only one of her friends who had her own tune. And it was sung lots, not just at this time of the year. Now it just irritated her so much that whenever she heard it she wanted to turn round and shout “SHUT UP”!

The Rotary Club had finished decorating the Christmas tree with a heavenly host of angels, and there was a group of carollers trilling it as she hurried across Market Square.

She’d gone into Lewis’ & John’s to peruse the perfumes, and dashed out again when the guy, all smiley teeth and wig, started playing a jazz version of it on the piano.

She sought refuge in St. Nick’s, only to find that the choristers were practising it in readiness for Midnight Mass.

In the end, the only place where it didn’t haunt her, was in the Dew Drop Inn.

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