That little slip of paper in my pocket was taunting me. On it, one word ‘Mary’. Devon had come up with the idea of an office secret Santa. Yay. I suppose I’m being a humbug. I don’t mind Christmas, honest, but secret Santa, really? Are we 12? I don’t know what to get Mary. I spend as little amount of time at work as possible. I don’t know her. How am I to know what to get her? Chocolate? - Maybe she’s on a diet. Socks? - No that’s weird. Books? – Does she read? I stopped, inspiration struck – a gift card.
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