Elias was a man of precise habits and a profound, secret hatred for cedar allergies. For years, he had braved the "authentic" holiday experience, only to spend December behind a fog of antihistamines and tissues.
That evening, he sat by the glow with a cup of cider. There were no falling needles to sweep, no trunk to water, and no impending sense of respiratory doom. For the first time in a decade, the only thing "artificial" about his Christmas was the tree—his joy was entirely real. buy artificial trees online
One Tuesday, while nursing a scratchy throat, he typed four life-changing words into his browser: . Elias was a man of precise habits and
