Stephen stomped down the stairs.
It was that day again. The day after Christmas. The day his extended family, replete with their over-gorged distended bellies, descended upon his parents’ place.
Look at them, pigged out and vegged out, and expecting him to perform at their lame game of charades. “Oh my, hasn’t our Little Stevie grown.” Oh yes, he’d grown, he now could climb ladders. There’d be no enforced games of charades for him this year. No, he knew just the right place to hide.
He grunted amused satisfaction and snuck out of the door.
No one would think to look for him here. The bell-tower at St Stephen’s church.