The gingerbread duke

- Burnt. Useless and unaesthetic. You can't just leave it in the oven and go about watching missed movie endings. You have to check on it.
- I did check. Reached for its feet with a toothpick. Stared from outside the oven window. I checked.
- Well you must have done something wrong, since gingerbread man is dead, like in your dream. See, some dreams do come true.
- Only the bad ones...
- Don't rush into pessimistic generalizations. It's a logic error based on your tumultuous oniric life. Or on a rather lame dream, if you think of it.
- Says who?
- Says...you! You're talking to yourself. So there's no other witness to this pre-Christmas well-intended miscalculation...
- If that's how you call a smoky failure...
- Don't overreact. I do believe you don't need to resurrect symbols to reenact the holiday spirit. Nor to choreograph the bright colorful tree lights. Or to enjoy being snowed on.
- Then what should I do? I don't feel it anymore. I complain about traffic jams, bad jingles, extreme consumerism, and fatty food. Dear ones are around me and I feel like back-packing in a jungle somewhere.
- If you don't know, then I can't know either, remember?
- Right...Snow is not that bad though. I wonder why there has to be a feminine snow fairy, and not a...white duke, like in Bowie's lyrics.
- Probably for purity and softness reasons. It's part of the collective imaginary. Anyway, you have Frosty...
- Why don't I bake a white duke? Well, bake it brown and then cover it with cream. That might work. It would have a duke's costume and all. Just bring something new to the Christmas table.
- You used to like how it's always the same.
- Shopping list being drawn, keep quiet for a bit.
- Fine, I won't stop you. Just remember to check on it. Hold its hand if you have to. Don't let it die...