By Neel Anil Panicker
Esther pulled the the red and white fluffy fur cap down the ears of Sara.
Her little one, as if on cue, sidled up to her__the five year old’s frosty hands exploring the still warm contours of her mother’s.
A wavy chill ran through Esther’s spine as the clock on the wall opposite struck chimed 12 times.
Consumed by shame and anxiety, she looked down at her child, albeit slyly.
Her little princess was innocence personified; the eyes expectant, face gleaming with pride and love.
‘Merry Christmas’ filled the cold December air.
‘What’s Father Christmas without father?
Esther had no answer.
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