The presents that fall off the conveyers and that don't quite fit in the bag, are left behind forever alone to themselves and with each other. The power of love and hope has left their wrapping and now the power of jealousy and sorrow fills their boxes and bows to the brim. They crawl along the Workshop floor collecting together forming whole bodies and walking along the dusty forgotten floors of the factory workshop. Never found, never heard, always crying.

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