cool! i'll come back in a few days bc im a bit busy as of now

how did i get the captcha wrong...

no wonder i wear contacts 

A perfectly square container sits, almost glittering, in the rising sun. Catching anyone's eye, the delicate light blue ribbon, like a thin piece of frozen river, is tied crookedly but lovingly around the package. The wrapping seems to be made of morning frost that you would find on your window pane, creating that beautiful sparkle. Serene silence enfolds this box. 

Who knows what lays inside? 

my gift is wrapped with pure snow, decorated with blue-tinted stellar dendrites and sparkling frost. it is tied with a ribbon made of ice so thin that it is flexible, tied in a bow, and sprinkled with power snow like glitter. it is cold to the touch---it feels like snow.

My gift is wrapped in a jumbled, yet beautiful assortment of leaves. the spiky green leaves of holly compliment the bright red leaves of the burning bush, and needles of various evergreen trees are woven in between- none sharp enough to hurt, though. a few red berries and a twig of mistletoe are tucked underneath the silky gold ribbon.

My gift rests elegantly by a crackling, warm fireplace, where the soft glow of the flames dances on the polished wood floor. Above the mantel, stockings hang in perfect alignment, their vibrant colors reflecting the golden light. The gift itself is wrapped in luxurious red velvet, its texture invitingly soft and adorned with a dusting of glitter that shimmers like a thousand tiny stars, evoking the magic of the season. Topping the package is a delicate cranberry garland, its rich ruby tones complementing the velvet wrap. A striking silver tinsel bow crowns the present, intricately interwoven with sprigs of fresh green mistletoe, completing the festive and enchanting display.

My gift is square and thin, wrapped in a sheet of chilly paper that sparkles in indistinguishable tones. At every gust of wind, there's a ripple of movement across the surface of the wrappings, an imitation snowstorm that mirrors all the beauty of the winter world. If you look closer, you'll see that the base color for all the other shifting jewel hues is silver, and the base for the silver is a thousand intricately cut paper snowflakes, each one reflecting a different point of light and a different color (but maybe they aren't just paper... it's hard to tell). Each layer reveals a deeper one, which reveals a deeper one, which reveals a deeper one, all on the same thin sheet of wrapping paper.

Clear white ribbons strike across the wrapping paper, smooth and cold as icicles. They're tied in an intricate bow in the center of the gift, under which is slipped a single, dazzlingly cerulean blue jay's feather. May the spell of the season be with you.

My gift is a cube wrapped in literal wood. Warm wood, at that. There's a certain aura around it that has a familiar kind of feel, cozy and sweet even. It smells like pine and doesn't make a lot of noise when you shake it. It has intricate lazer designs and decals, accuratly placed by yours truly. It's relitavly large, almost as big as a chair, but it's not too heavy. Finally, it's topped off with an green origami bow. 

The present looks puffy. It's wrapped in blue paper, paper that looks like it's made of thick water even though you can't see through it. Little stars keep falling from a unidentified source, sinking into the paper and reappearing somewhere else and falling again, always into the water made paper. Every time the star hits the paper, it gives off a pulsing light.  

my gift is wrapped in a waterfall of blue; waves move across the paper in spirals, glittering with secrets. there is golden ribbon tied in a bow at the top, reaching down the sides and blending into a silver base. it sings to you. soft and sweet and it sounds like apple cider, conjuring memories of family and tingling warmth that spreads through your chest. you smile.

my gift is wrapped in a cool dark silk that looks like the night sky, with a sprinkling of silver glitter on it, like the stars. a ribbon is tied around it, and the ribbon glistens and shines in a thousand shades of blue and green. this gift is born of the aurora borealis, and whoever chooses it will be blessed for a thousand nights.

The box is thin and slightly long. It isn't tall, but waves of colors ripple across it like swirling clouds: pink and orange and violet and blue. It's the colors of a sunrise, and the hues stay after their journeys across the little box, fading and pressing themselves into the others. When you lean closer, you hear wisps of sound. The chirp of a songbird, the spray of a wave as it plunges into shore. You  taste salt and breathe in the fresh aroma of dew. Overall, the pureness of new beginnings draws you to the present. 

My gift is small and silent.  It nestles lightly in the palm of your hand, wrapped in a drawstring bag of tightly knitted fabric the color of nettles, and so, so soft.  It has warmth and from it comes a faint earthy smell.  Perhaps that is only the smell of the bare branched tree from which it hung.