First lines of the novel, "An Imperfect Present," I'm too mired in festivities to write today:
"It was Christmas Eve — the last one they'd share, though it didn't seem possible at the time. Even as high school sweethearts, they'd always taken one another for granted.
Just past sundown, carolers arrived — their breath visible against the raw night. Paul and Maria stared out the window, but did not open the door.
The world, it felt, had been closing in on them…”