We were all laughing at Gran, who was double parked with a red in one hand and a freshly opened beer in the other.
The joy was contagious and the giggling even more so, as Gran chuckled at my cousins, who were laughing uncontrollably at her. It wasn’t long before our faces were flushed and our sides were sore. Mum came in and placed a delicate hand on my shoulder. I looked up at her and absorbed all of her features.
‘Time for presents?’ she asked.
I placed a hand on hers and answered with a smile. Mum said something in return. Her speech was distorted. It sounded muffled and electronic. She glided towards Gran and took the beer from her hand. The conversations of my family were drowned out, like we were all underwater. There was a hard cut and the glitch resolved itself. The glass of festive brandy that had been in my hand seconds ago was now a small box, cradled in a nest of wrapping. My brother grabbed me by the neck and pulled me into him, both rough and lovingly at the same time, my face crushed up against his body. Even though I had no olfactory input, my brain filled in the rest, and I could smell a sweetness, what I imagined aftershave would have smelt like.
‘It’s so you can upgrade the storage on that thing, document more stuff, you big nerd,’ he said.
I looked over to Dad and my uncle. Their faces were barren, save for their wide eyes, which were transfixed on the sky. My brother caught me staring, and followed my gaze to the window. Mum did the same, then all my cousins, until all of us were staring out the window. Gran was the only one not looking. Instead, she was smiling at me, still laughing about before. I knew what was happening, even though I’d never seen it with my own eyes. There was a growing tremor. Every wine glass and photo frame toppled. The brightness from outside grew exponentially, and finally, the shockwave hit the window.
I chose to disconnect at that moment, the exact moment happiness and joy died. It was gone in a flash. I wiggled the headset off my head and laid it to rest by the skeleton where I had found it. I looked out at where the window had been, reorienting myself to the reality of my own Christmas Eve. The sun was setting over a desolate shell of a world, a world 50 years older than the one I’d just seen. Losing myself in the memories of this stranger had been a gift in itself. I’d heard stories about what Christmas had been like before, but the tales did not do them justice. As much as I wanted to put the headset back on and play pretend family, I knew the silent and lonely world was my home. Part of me was glad it was something Gran didn’t see.
