Everywhere the lights sparkled. Red, green, white, yellow, blue. The city had donned its coat of many colors, hiding under the Technicolor fabric the squalor of urine-filled alleys, of tawdry strip clubs, of abandoned dreams.
Kelly loved this time of year. It wasn't just the holiday lights, the garlands hanging from lampposts, the menorahs glowing in windows, the tinkling bells from Salvation Army Santas. Walking the streets of this gilded Jerusalem, she caught a glimpse of what it was meant to mean, in a child's laugh, in a parent's smile, in a lover's hand, nestled warm and safe, as Tracey's was in hers. It was Love, peering out hopefully from behind the garish cloth.