This is the last segment of my run.
I am barely holding on, just to cross the finish line.
That’s December.

There’s a subtle, gradual shift from a brown, eventful autumn to slower, lazier winter days. That’s December. The colour palette in my bullet journal changes from the darker burnt sienna and ochre hues to icy blues and marbled purples. That’s December. The clouds lay low early in the morning, and rise to the top later in the day only...

The heat blurred my vision as the sweat trickled down in a steady stream all over my body. December was here. It brought with it beach days, school holidays, and A/C on blast. Fun. It also meant heat exhaustion and passing out on a fortnightly basis. Not so fun.

December also brought about a heavy, all-consuming wave of depression. ‘December Depression’ if you will. As an immigrant in this country, I had never been home. Because I moved here at...

The smoke clutches Sydney like a quivering fist. It conceals the peaks of city towers, stains the white teeth of the Opera House like coffee.
The morning begins the same: peeling open the blinds and looking at the sky. Today, it is copper coloured. Cloudless. Claustrophobic.
The sun hangs in the sky like a red-back spider. Apocalyptic red. Blood red.
I pad through the quiet house and sniff the air. Even through closed windows, the smell of burnt bush hovers...

    "Do you want some?"

    My friend holds out the cup of hot chocolate she bought from the school cafe, eyes wide underneath the wool beanie she's wearing. I nod, and she holds it out to me, letting me take a sip of the hot chocolatey goodness. It slips down my throat smoothly, leaving behind a bitter sweet twang.

    We're pressed against each other, huddled up in the midst of Hong Kong winter, sitting at...

You know that summer’s coming up when you start reading about the impending power outages which will come as a result of everyone reaching to switch on their air-conditioners. In this hot, dry continent of ours, Australia, the sound of December is that of countless bushfire warnings over the radio. “There is an active watch-and-act alert near Katoomba, NSW” says the newsreader, and the same of countless other places. City-dwellers like me fret little about what goes on in the...

December is decay. In Australia, the loss of life starts in November and just grows and grows. I walk roads that radiate dense, glossy heat, and lined along them are always dead grasses. The plants are all so withered that they might as well be grey, and not the sickly, palest yellow colour they decide to be, to at least remind me of clouds fat with rain which I miss very much. It’s all so sulphurous. 

Rain. Clouds. That’s what...

    Christmas to me has always been about light. Flickering candles dancing on frost ornamented windows, twinkling lights from houses filled with smiles, and light inside every person. A woman I know lost her husband, and her world became full of darkness. Somehow, I wanted to help bring back light into her soul. I decided to give her a piece of the light of the world every day. Each afternoon, I would rush home from school, and pick up...

For some December is a month of cold and darkness. All they wish the whole month is to sink in their bed and never get out. For some, it’s the time of the year where the only thing they can – also the only thing they want to do – is relax. Then there are some who think December is just like every other month and all they can do is what they have been doing the entire year. And then...

    "Well, this is very unfortunate." Ophelia itched her head. 
    "Yeah, it is." Tommy kicked a rock toward the cliff. 
    "Do you remember where we came from? I think it was the pine trail or was it the sycamore trail." Ophelia put her flat hand to her forehead as she searched far into the distance.
    "I think my group started at the Otter trail." Tommy copied Ophelia, her every movement. 
    "We should go left." Ophelia confidently started...

I readjusted myself against dark canvas seats, peeling a black polyester skirt from my sweaty skin. Bending to avoid the car roof, I unlaced the boots I had precipitously equipped at 5am that morning. The humid wind assaulted us, blowing away the peculiar smell of sweating feet. I inelegantly lounged myself along the seats, my sigh almost echoing in the silence.

There was something in the air that couldn’t be blown away. Part of me had wanted to talk, but...

The sun glares down through my window in the early morning and I instantly know the day will be hot and dry. It hasn't rained enough in the past few months and the plants look dry and close to death. The beach looks cool and inviting as I stare at the blue and white cascading in patterns then rising and crashing onto the burning hot sand. My two golden retrievers, though old, never get tired of a gallop around in...

As I looked out of the window sill to imbue the mesmerizing soft solid drizzling vividly from the scarlett coloured sky,  I found the dense droplets of water vapour staring back at me instead. This year...there was going to be no sign of snow in the country. Or so I've heard.

Frozen 2 had just hit the theatres on 22nd November... but there was still no sign of winter in India.

As my head rested on the violet cushion that Mumma...

December was always a time of great excitement and joy for me. I still remember being little and living in Idaho, where the snow piled so high we could sled down it right in our very own front yard. I remember getting bundled up in big thick coats, so layered that I couldn't bend my arms all the way and ended up waddling around the snow like an awkward penguin, but happy nonetheless. I remember my sisters and I playing...

3, 2, 1, jump! Quick, take a deep breath before you hit the water. Allow yourself to sink, let the cold catch up, before blasting to the surface and gasping for precious air. Swim to the ladder, climb back onto the jetty where the seagulls are eyeing you nervously. Shake the water from your hair, and do it again. 3, 2, 1, jump!

In my house, December means summertime is here, and summertime means jetty jumping. Otago Harbour is still...

Sparks flew as the fireplace crackled and burned in my wake. My eyes started fluttering open when I felt the bite of the chilled air that soaked into my skin even when I had a blanket covering me. I was sleeping on my couch that was right in front of the fireplace. The tv, which was on top of the fireplace, was still on. I must’ve fallen asleep last night while I was watching Netflix. The empty mug of hot...

       In all its glory and baggage, December is the height of the Holiday Season in the United States. It showcases the carefully curated gloss of consumer culture alongside the wilted state of the American dream. The Holiday Season begs the question: When did Americans stop being referred to as citizens and begin being termed “consumers”? December is a time of imperfect family reunions accompanied by white-picket-fence depictions of smiling families on television. The mother places the roast beef...

1995

It is long before our generation has a voice when it snows like the sky is falling. It is a blizzard, a true Northern Hemisphere December; a Christmas your grandparents talk about, the storybooks talk about. Powder whiter than cotton covering the fields as far as the eye can see. I am not yet born – just a mere embryo in the fabric of my mother’s womb – but I can imagine them like this:

My mother shivers in...

Carlos Melendez
 
It’s been 60 years since the last footprint was set on earth years of nuclear war destroyed our planet and made it uninhabitable. Some might say it was the United States fault, but I guess that doesn’t really matter anymore since only 3 of the last 400 humans left are actually American. Luckily the government had a secret space station by the name of Fenom 2052 that they were hiding in space for situations like this. Hi,...

My eyes fluttered open as the warm air from the ceiling vent gushed onto me. My sheer blue curtains exposed the white winter landscape which revealed the snow-coated fence. Immediately, I turned my head to my closet which held my bright pink snow pants and my heavy winter coat. Across the hall, I heard my sister fumbling with her gear as well, as if we telepathically shared the desire of stomping in the fresh blanket of snow. We both ran...

The metal bed beneath me was unbearably cold, nipping the back of my thigh, as I stayed in the position of which I was instructed. The radiographer walked back into the room and adjusted the heavy x-ray equipment overhead saying, "hold on, please. This is the last one." So I stayed in the agonizing pose until he returned and said "you can leave," while prying the flat panel x-ray detector from underneath my iron-sheathed leg. 

I sat in the consultation...

Christmas dawns bright and cold, perhaps a little frost on the car windows. Hanukkah lasts for eight mild nights, and we frequent the park under blue skies with white wisps. 

That year Hanukkah came before Christmas. While one (admittedly larger) side of relatives was putting up trees, stringing lights, and baking sugar cookies, my family was preparing for Hanukkah. The menorahs were removed from the freezer, last year's blue and white wax stubbornly clinging to worn gold and silver metal,...

    By December first the Palouse changes, the rolling wheat fields, each stalk made of spun gold that dance in the breeze during the summer, are now harvested, each hill sleeping under a fluffy white crystalline duvet of winter. The snow is a blanket of silence, a hood pulled over the fields and houses, covering them in the type of beautiful silence you are afraid to shatter. The sound of laughter echoes through the hills, and soon people of...

The cold pierced my skin like a thousand long needles. Reaching through three layers of warm fabric, it touched my arms and legs and chest. The evening had just begun to unfold, the sunset ceasing. Living in Austin was not as summery as I had expected it to be, but I suppose it was my fault to expect the elegant winter months to be summery. These months always had such pride behind them, almost a haughtiness. The other months certainly...

    December is a very special month of the year. December gives me the warmest feelings and reminds me of unforgettable memories. At this time of the year, all I think about is spending time with my family in a warm and relaxing environment while outside is that cold but beautiful environment filled with snow. I always liked winter, and one experience of mine that I will always remember is when I celebrated the New Year’s Eve in Germany, which ended up in...

In December, you can forget everything before now. School is coming to an end and the holidays are right ahead. I always feel a certain feeling that I can never really explain when I realize that winter has snuck up on me again. A great quote that sums up my feelings of Christmas is "Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Let your heart be light. From now on your troubles will be out of sight." It really shows what the...