Pious Santa

   
   "Pious Santa"
  
   Down in the damned dirty south, summertime absent, replaced by just a hint of Yankee weather, girls and snuggled blue-jeans in tight strut through the crowded real estate of suburban sprawl, and while not thinking about how to crack the planet Earth in half with chaotic frequency, though it is protected by a Golden Space Dome, more or less, Nikola of Middle TN. was in search of a Serbian Orthodox Church, and though his Pap was Catholic, Nikola loved the idea of Theotokos, knowing a mother will give you her last dollar, him having learned that from a redneck in Arkansas, armed with a V-8 in his carport, Old Glory hanging, kinda bangled.  
   Anyway, this dude of no renown, noticed only for his Proust-like mustache and attempts at dandyism, mimicked Joyce in his diary, or made a brave pursuit in doing so; still, there was none other than his pet sugar-glider, the flying pseudo-hamster always upon his right shoulder, as if a furry parrot that displayed no speech, those frequently picked up vibrations, seen by illogical minds, like tasting colors, and the sugar-glider was named Betsy.
   It was approaching Christmas, on the calendar, and--in the air.  Seemed a bit frosty.