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Oh, Christmasstollen. The stollen story in ur family ( and many others in Germany before the wall came down) :

Once upon a time, before the Great Wall between the East and the West came down, the East Germans would watch western television ( which they were forbidden to do) and it would cause a great longing for all those wonderful things they saw in the west, which they didn't have. So when little American children would write to Santa, east Germans would write to their friends and families in the west a letter with wish lists for coffee and oranges, soaps and toys. And the western elves would start packing things up and sending them over to the east. But the evil border guards would stop the pacels, taking out things for themselves and delaying the delivery until the oranges got moldy.
At the same time, the Easterners would pack parcels as a thank you with what they had- the famous Dresdener Christmas stollen and hand crafted Christmas ornaments from Erzgebirge. And the parcels were sent off towards the west.
But, the evil border guards stopped these parcels as well and delayed the delivery until the Christmas stollen was hard and the ornaments did not find the tree, because christmas was over.
Then, one day in1989, the Easterners had enough and stormed the border to visit their friends and family in the West.
And nobody had to dip the dried out Christmas stollen into the coffee anymore.
 
Presenting

Veronica, Exoticat and Queen of Mt. Hip and often Narrator of my various Cat Shuay threads
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Charles, the Cary Grant of cats, Crooner
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Bunny, Flatcat and Pet Connoisseur
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Bunny and Charles have come a looong way from their half feral state...now they are both delightful lap cats.
 
Reminds me of a tonne of bale'n to get rid of the monstrous intelligence ... that's the grail!

Now does Ξ motives (that's chi'z on the opposing move) burn a hole in good sense ... resembling times in history when books of myth were burned by opposition to learning tough stuff?

There was 2000 years ago when the overbearing empire burned every library in the known world (limited area) and then recent incidents ... of denial of alien literature ... and then crystal Gael of night hides even more of a social democracy gone wrong ... a creative aspiration in a world 've chaos? Mankind sooner would hide the conflicts of psyche ... thus the wine and trampling's in the containment ... this may occur in layered time ... tiers?

Remember sun ... a thinking man is dangerous and can create shadows in desire adda ... and adda bean something that can get around a stone ... like roots of the myth ... I.E. bones of the story? The lies under standing posts ... stumped?

We do get that way without diggings ... see Montreal has a big hole under it ... almost like the great pyramid scheme ... unplanned voids? Question is ... will it hold water?
 
This story actually dates to the mid-nineties, when writing the first draft of the first version occupied me on a snow day. It has been published once before, in a webzine edited by my late friend Mike. I was never happy with that version so finally took it back (I never lost copyright, the webzine only got first publication rights) and rewrote it earlier this year.

It's horror, a favorite genre of mine back then, but there's no blood and guts here. I aimed for intensely disturbing rather than gross-out. At the time, I was thinking of kicking off my own "horror mythos" akin to H. P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu Mythos so the "Angel" and the mysterious book were intended to be part of a bigger picture.

Voice of Ice - occult winter freezing snow angels
 
Snapped this gull on the ledge of the Fairmont in Vancouver:

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