Five minutes of writing inspired by 
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Brian hated Christmas.
Or at least, he thought as he started up the ladder into the attic, he hated the preparations for Christmas. Certainly, he despised going up into the cold dark space in the roof in search of the box of decorations he had shoved up there sometime at the beginning of the year.
The light didn't work, he remembered as he flicked the switch. Every year he reminded himself to fix it.
Probably just need a new bulb, he thought - the same thought he had last year. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and turned on the torch.
The loft space was surprisingly large and filled with objects that were either broken, obsolete or just not in fashion anymore. Kerry hated throwing things away, so anything she didn't want in the house anymore went into the garage or the attic. The garage was full of boxes, and looking around the space in the attic, so was up here.
The torchlight picked out the box he recognised as the one containing the decorations. An old sturdy box his parents had given him.
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