Christmas Meeting At The Cabin (Unedited)

Secluded, removed from the highly visible world, a single dirt path services the dark forest acting as passage and the midpoint miniature sign designates a dividing line between two cultures. Those who grow to size that rivals the trees and one’s who have a modest humble strength.

A ‘normal’ figure, learning her journey, resided privately inhabiting a small wooden cabin a few steps from the transient hiking area. Sporting red hair, glasses and distinguished positive personality, Miss Information now spends her twenty-four-hour day engaging modern technology, obtaining knowledge which she intends to distribute throughout cyberspace.

“Do not know what I am going to do with all the mass marketing teases,” the former intrepid communicator thought getting up stoking the fire, already blazing, only needing simple tending, Suddenly, rustling sounds clamored outside, “that darn bear is always up to something,” Miss Information commentated going towards the window offering a pleasant view.

“That is right old bear, go fool around in that garbage out there, I of course first thing in the morning will clean the whole scene up before anybody notices.”

Not long ago, Myrtha Information was a personality presenter, living a celebrity friendly existence. Every day the community wake up host mimicked resort spa treatments, receiving a professional hair style before facing computerized controlled cameras, conducting one-way conversations.

“I still do the same thing,” Myrtha mumbled hearing a crashing sound strike the window, “what could that be?”

Confirming immediate investigation Myrtha found a frazzled bald eagle, shaking his head. Slowly opening the window, brushing away the snow, the statuesque creature exclaimed, “I am Winbald Eagle, window shopping is my true calling, and I am here to sell you stuffed stocking trinkets.”

“Hello, “Myrtha greeted, “do you want to come in, have a cup of coffee, and we can talk.”

Taking control, grabbing his briefcase Winbald entered the home planting his occupation flag, revealing many wares as Myrtha prepared the conversation prop.

“Such a nice Christmas tree, you have,” Winbald complemented.

“A German fellow set it all up for me,”

“He did?”

“Tannon Balm,” Myrtha sat down, “he loved watching my television show.”

Turning on a dime, Winbald started his presentation, “I have these, I have that, I have this and those, creating wonderful stocking stuffers.”

“I like what you are selling,” Myrtha smiled.

“It is freedom, let it ring, it is my image,”

Unexpectedly, a loud sound exploded, and Myrtha excused herself, proceeding towards the door. Opening the entry the bear stood there, “are you still rummaging around my garbage?” Myrtha asked.

Not saying a word, the Bear could see Winbald Eagle, ruffle his feathers, “are you entertaining a new partner?”

“Yes, I am listening to Winbald’s stocking stuffing pitch,”

“Can I come in?” The Bear requested, “I do bring good tidings.”

“It’s an empty Honey jar,” Myrtha observed.

“I am hungry, and have no money,”

“Come in, I will see what is in my refrigerator,” Myrtha invited, “I am always cooking things up.”

Following Myrtha, the Bear displayed a sorrowful expression, “you look famished,” stated Winbald, showing a concerned face, “would you like a Big Mac, Whopper? Pepsi or Coke?”

“What’s the difference? The Bear wondered.

“Nothing much since the beef is now over with Wendy.” Myrtha clarified.

Peacefully twinkling, Tannon Baum’s Christmas Tree watched the dialogue, “it is nice we can sit down here together.”

Both the bear and eagle agreed, “so why aren’t you coming into our homes anymore?” They both inquired.

“I reported misinformation,” Myrtha confessed, “I thought I was right, and I left the network.”

“Why don’t we clear the air,” Winbald suggested knowing his razzle dazzle influence played a role.

“Yes, clear the air,” the Bear approved opening the discussions, “competition Winbald is your Achilles heel, it will track you down and make your heart stop beating.”

“How so?” Winbald Eagle quizzically replied.

“Through your sporting obsession, neighbors turn into foes, bringing tension,” the Bear pointed out.

Gracefully Winbald listened before speaking, “they enjoy healthy recreational exercise and feel better when the scoring is completed.”

“What is in your picnic basket? Myrtha,” the Bear changed the subject.

“Light sandwiches and nice drinks,”

“Good for any social get together?” the Bear backed up his thoughts.

“Yes, it could instigate aggressive tongue hockey matches,” Myrtha noted.

Until dawn the three continued conversing, talking about many important things while taking time to laugh realizing nonsense factors stirred anger’s pot. In the end when the sun appeared a handshake between Winbald and the Bear caught snooping photographers lenses, assigning Miss Myrtha Information another holiday season story, along with giving a red, white and blue banner, a reason to fly.