“Not this again!” William growls.
The traditional roasted chicken and dressing, gravy, green beans, and corn sit steaming on the table while his wife glides about the room, bringing honeyed ham, broccoli casserole, rolls and muffins, tomato and squash soups—everything as overabundantly perfect as it had been every Christmas. Beautiful, but ethereal.
His sons and daughter, their bodies scorched from the fire three years ago, quietly urge him to eat “to forget this weary world.”
Eyes burning, he throws a coat over his pajamas and stumbles into the icy street. His wife follows with a cup of flaming cider.
(Index of all stories submitted to the Advent Ghosts Storytelling Fest)
I’ll never enter a burning building again without thinking of flaming cider. Great story!
Feel free to criticize this, if you want. My wife says the previous draft was a little better. She may be right.
So creepy. Well done.
It is creepy… and I am intrigued by his attitude – so used to it that he’s more annoyed than terrified… and yet still grieving. Makes me wonder if he set the fire, or… what?
Well done.
I suppose it’s reasonable to suspect him of setting the fire, but I didn’t intend it. I thought that with this apparition occurring three times now, every Christmas day, he have moved passed fear, but not heartache.
It’s very hard to get strong emotion right in these very brief stories.
Wow, Phil, I think this is the best one you’ve done yet. The twist at the two-thirds mark is wonderful, as is the humor at the end with the flaming cider.