Christmas Prompt - Sensing Christmas

Rhys woke to full alertness and complete silence.  He lay very still, straining to understand what had jerked him out of his dreams.  The house was still dark and, next to him, Lyssa's soft, steady breathing seemed to say that all was well.

A blissfully cool breeze was drifting in through the open window, carrying a faint whiff of eucalyptus smoke – a reminder of the illegal burn off he'd had to take his brigade to yesterday.  It had taken most of the afternoon of Christmas Eve to extinguish and black out.

He eased himself out of bed without waking his wife, and walked carefully through the darkness to the kitchen window.  He could see only starlight, and that was good – there was no orange glow to warn of a re-ignition of yesterday's fire beyond the west ridge.

He stood, luxuriating in the early morning chill – a chill that would evaporate when the cicadas woke.  The chooks and the livestock were silent, and the dog had not stirred, but something had woken him.

There was an unidentifiable whisper of sound that seemed to be coming from inside the house.  He tip-toed back to the bedroom and found the torch that lived beside his bed.  Without switching it on, he crept back into the living room.  Faint scents of last night's supper - bolognaise sauce, garlic bread, and souring red wine – reminded him that they had not cleaned up before retiring.

There was another smell lurking behind the rich perfume of the ripening mangoes that nested on the dining table.  It took a few seconds to work out what it was.  Chocolate – it was chocolate.  The soft noise came again, from the direction of William's bedroom.  He shuffled slowly across the open space, feeling carefully with his toes, dodging leftover toys, and almost walked into a closed door, only a shade less dark than the walls.

The smell of chocolate was stronger, and he could hear soft rustling from beyond the door.  For a minute he stood still, remembering his childhood Christmases – the intense efforts to quietly unpack the pillowcase full of Santa's gifts that hung from the end of each bed, and the surreptitious chocolate "breakfasts" before the parents arose.  Outside, a Kookaburra laughed, and Rhyss knew that the first hint of light was creeping up from the eastern horizon.  He opened the door and switched on the torch. 

"Merry Christmas" he whispered to the three lamp-lit, chocolate smeared faces.