There was a knock at the door.
He paused. Hauled himself
up. Staggered over. Opened it.
Nobody there. Snow swirling
around his slippers. Colder than it
should have been. Somehow sad.
He went back inside. Slumped down in the blue-green radiation of the television
screen. Why would anyone visit him? Empty house, full of ghosts.
Outside in the dark, slowly at first, a patch of snow began to swirl
against the wind. Dancing. Leaving.
At last.
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Part of the Advent Ghosts annual microfiction event.
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8 comments:
I find this really scary, but I have to sleep on exactly why. Great work!
I think I'd only get worried if you found it pleasant and felt like it was something you'd want to experience. ;-)
Fair enough!
This is very well done. I thought from the title it was gong to be some kind of Jacob Marley tribute. This is much eerier.
Lots of stories about loneliness. Kind of a synergy going on through the digital airspace this year.
Loneliness and ghosts at Christmas, a classic combo, superbly told.
"It's the most lonely time of the year ..." Nice, Nathaniel.
Stories about Christmas end up, for me, a lot like stories about space travel. Cold and loneliness and staring out into the dark.
My own Christmases aren't particularly sad or anything. But when I try to think creatively about the season, that's what comes out.
When I lived in Florida many of my holidays were spent empty and alone, wishing someone would knock. This story makes me glad the wrong person did not. Well done.
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