A/N: Hello! I'm still alive. Sorry, I haven't been around. Life has been crazy. I miss writing and my stories. I will get them finished... eventually. I'm starting this drabble/flash fic to get me back into writing. It's something I started months ago, that I had hoped to have written/finished, but life never goes to plan. I hope you are all well.

Big thanks to Sherry for all that she does.

Updates will be random.

Let's go!

Chapter 1

Christmas is my least favourite time of the year. Everyone's all happy, or should I say 'merry'. The shops are full of Christmas crap months and months before the day even gets here. Then there's the month of December where you can't walk down a single street without seeing decorations on every corner, or someone collecting from one charity or another, trying to prey on your goodwill. Yeah… Well, guess what? I don't have any goodwill. I hate Christmas and seeing it paraded every day in front of my face pisses me the fuck off. Bah-fucking-humbug. That's what I think. Fuck Christmas.

"Excuse me, miss?" I glance to my right as I walk down Sauchiehall Street to see some old man trying to get my attention. He's holding a collection bucket in his hand. A sure sign that he wants to part me with my well earned money. Fat chance of that happening. "Would you like to donate some spare change to the local dog shelter?"

I bite my tongue to keep from biting his head off. In fact, I don't trust my own mouth, so I merely shake my head and continue walking. I know it will only be a matter of meters before I bump into another collector. I usually find it's best not to make eye contact with these people. That doesn't always work with the really persistent ones though, like that old guy I just walked past. What bugs me is that these people are out here asking people for money when so many people in Glasgow are struggling to make ends meet. If people really wanted to donate money, they would. They don't need people hassling them on the streets, forcing them to donate something they can't afford. When did charities get so pushy?

I sigh when I finally make it down High Street to my favourite coffee shop. I'm grateful to see it isn't busy, but I can't find any solitude in the shop either. Even they have gone all out for Christmas with their decorations, Christmas cakes and cinnamon flavoured coffee. There's no escaping that dreaded holiday. I decide not to sit at a table like I usually do on Saturday mornings. I take my coffee to-go. I just can't stand to be around all this shit any longer than I need to be. I plan to head to Tesco for my weekly shop before heading home, where I know I'll be safe for the rest of the weekend.

However, things don't always go as planned.