Thomas Kinkade Blessings of Christmas

Thomas Kinkade Blessings of ChristmasThomas Kinkade Beyond Summer GateThomas Kinkade Autumn Snow
white ash under the remains of a log. Mort knew, without being told, that it was the last log.
An elderly lady was sitting at the kitchen table, with her hooked nose only a few inches from the paper. A grey cat curled on the table beside her blinked calmly at Mort.'Pardon?' said Mort. He recalled himself, and repeated 'PARDON?'
'If you drink, that is. It's raspberry port. On the dresser. You might as well finish the bottle.'
Mort eyed the dresser suspiciously. He felt he'd rather lost the initiative. He pulled out the hourglass and glared at it. There was a little heap of sand left.
There's still a few minutes yet,' said the witch, without looking up.
'How, I mean, HOW DO YOU KNOW?'
She ignored him, and dried the ink in front of the candle, sealed the letter with a drip of wax, and tucked it under the candlestick. Then she picked up the cat.
'Granny Beedle will be around directly tomorrow to tidy up
The scythe bumped off a beam. The woman looked up.
'Be with you in a minute,' she said. She frowned at the paper. 'I haven't put in the bit about being of sound mind and body yet, lot of foolishness anyway, no-one sound in mind and body would be dead. Would you like a drink?'