Flying towards me was a hand.

The hand was followed by other body parts. First a foot, then part of a leg. I saw a well-rounded chin with a beard still burning roll across the freshly waxed floor. Bone fragments crashed down like hail. It was hard to distinguish the smaller human remains from the torn up ceiling panels that flew towards my unprotected direction. I had very little time to react.

It was Christmas Eve, 2010 and I was spending my Christmas Eve doing what I do every Christmas Eve - having my Christmas dinner alone with strangers. Le Pétard was on my list of favorites and it was always the last to close. I called ahead just in case to reserve my usual, a table for one in the bar room.

As I walked towards the French restaurant I admired the huge neon display on the side of the old rustic building. During the day the LED lights were so well hidden inside the cracks of the old building you hardly knew they existed, but as day turned into night the side of the building came alive. Le Pétard means "The Firecracker" in french. The Eiffell Tower was formed by shimmering Gold LED's and all around the famous tower were firecrackers recreating a Fourth of July celebration, that is, if they celebrated the US Holiday in France.

The hand landed in my lap. I felt my face burning. I barely heard myself scream as my ears were still ringing from what had happened. I saw a large gold necklace wrapped around half a neck and shoulder jettison toward my table. I ducked, then the ceiling began to fall.

I gently swiped the snow off my worn blazer. It has became a tradition for me to wear it every Christmas since my mother's funeral. Most have childhood memories of their mother's reminding them to wear their Sunday's Best for special occasions. My mother never once said that to me her entire life. She never needed to as I always dressed up just for her. Today was to be a very special occasion.

The doorman welcomed me with a few words in French, then he opened the large golden doors. Even though I had no what the doorman had said I thanked him as a sampling of every single French cuisine possible blasted into my nasal cavities. I took in a huge whiff and walked into the busy lobby. I knew the restaurant was crowded based from the number of cars in the parking lot, but it seemed like even more people were packed inside.

The lobby was filled with hungry patrons who too probably smelt the blast of unique foods coming from within. A rotund fellow with a beard that would make the band members of ZZ Top jealous was anxiously glancing at his watch. Next to him was an older grey hair lady with a gold necklace whom I assumed was his mother. The man's eyes shot daggers into me as I walked up to the hostess and told her I had a reservation.

"Your name please?" She asked without moving her eyes from the reservation list.

"Jack Frost"

The hostess looked up from her pad of paper and grinned. "No Jack Frost on the list..."

I smiled back. "Jack Ember"

"Oui! We could definitely use some of your name this time of year! S'il vous plaît suivez-moi..." she added while grabbing a menu.

"WHY DOES HE GET TO EAT BEFORE US?" cracked the elderly lady's voice.

The hostess looked back in the lobby and explained to them that I called ahead with a reservation and that my table was already set up. The ZZ Top doppelganger held back his elderly mother who was swinging her purse into the air and cursing at the hostess. I led the hostess to my table.

"Wow, you really know this place don't you?" She asked. I went to tell her about my yearly tradition of eating alone, but she seemed disinterested so I just nodded and sat at my table. The hostess told me that someone would be along shortly to take my order. I politely thanked her and she hurried back to her post wrangling the angry mob of hungry people.

Being trapped underneath the fallen rubble was the least of my worries, I looked down at my abdomen a piece of glass four inches thick pierced my body. I screamed out louder, as if I wasn't screaming loud enough before. My blazer and part of my pants burnt straight off my body. I tried to hold my head up high, but I couldn't anymore...

I reacquainted myself with the room. The bar was in perfect condition. The wines and spirits were neatly arranged along the wall in their own specific cubbyhole just how I remembered them. The ceiling fans were spreading the rich smell of the restaurant throughout. I noticed on the television set above the bar President Barrack Obama was giving his yearly Christmas Address to the American people. The restaurant was too loud for me to hear his speech but I saw that the chyron at the bottom said "President Obama wishes for world peace to spread."

After waiting for five minutes the waitress finally approached the table.

"Je m'appelle Annie, I will be your waitress this evening. Have you had a chance to look over tonight's spec...hey I know you!"

I pretended to look at the menu even though I already knew what I wanted to order. "I'm not sure if we have met before?" I lied. Last year was Annie's first year working at Le Pétard, a business that was started by her father's father. I remembered giving her a very generous holiday tip, probably more than she made the entire month.

"Yes, I do know you. Jack right. You gave me way more than you should have."

"It was well deserved." I caved.

"I remember you commenting about how my family's restaurant makes you want to visit Paris. Have you gotten that chance yet?"

As we enjoyed each other's company we both casually looked anxiously at our watches. I knew she was waiting for the exact moment just like I was for when it happened.

"Can I use the restroom? I need to use the potty really bad" I pleaded to my parents. My mom was still dressed in the wedding gown she had wore earlier that day when she married my step-dad, George, on their Christmas Eve wedding. George reassurelingly looked at my mother, "Hurry up. The food is almost here!"

I jumped out of my chair and ran towards the restrooms. As I approached the entrance I saw a kid about my age with an overstuffed jacket and his father enter the restaurant. The kid was crying, but I wasn't sure why this was the best French Food I have ever had in my entire seven years of existence! I got to the doorway of the restrooms when I heard the boy's father yelling something in a foreign language. I turned around just as they exploded.

Flying towards me was a hand.

The hand was followed by other body parts. First a foot, then part of a leg. I saw a well-rounded chin with a beard still burning roll across the freshly waxed floor. Bone fragments crashed down like hail. It was hard to distinguish the smaller human remains from the torn up ceiling panels that flew towards my unprotected direction. I had very little time to react.

The blast threw me to the floor and the hand landed in my lap. I felt my face burning. I barely heard myself scream as my ears were still ringing from what had happened. I saw a large gold necklace wrapped around half a neck and shoulder jettison toward my table. I ducked, then the ceiling began to fall.

Being trapped underneath the fallen rubble was the least of my worries, I looked down at my abdomen a piece of glass four inches thick pierced my body. I screamed out louder, as if I wasn't screaming loud enough before. My blazer and part of my pants burnt straight off my body. I tried to hold my head up high, but I couldn't anymore...

When I regained consciousness I heard crying coming from the little girl who was holding her hands on my stomach.

"We got to hold pressure right here" she was able to get out between sniffles. "I learned this in the girl scouts."

I adjusted my blazer as I sat up from my dinner. I wanted to thank Annie for her extraordinary service, but she was likely helping someone else in the busy restaurant. I placed an envelope addressed to Annie on the table with the message:

"See you next year."