There’s a nervousness in his dark eyes that bemuses me. My gaze flicks from his smile to his hands, which are twirling something green. Mistletoe.
‘I found it while helping your mom set up the party,’ he smirks.
For a moment it’s just us, as I press my lips to his; Angie and Jake in our perfect cocoon. But then I feel him draw away and detach from me. I follow him to the window. ‘So you stop kissing me just to watch a red squirr–‘ The ball of orange fluff I’d snatched a glance of disappears as a black SUV hurtles past. We are still. The doorbell rings.
This is a response to the Grammar Ghoul Press Writing Challenge #13
This week the prompts were:
A leathery-leaved parasitic plant which grows on apple, oak, and other broadleaf trees and bears white glutinous berries in winter.
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Writing 101: Your Voice Will Find You
Every year it’s at that perfect time. Close to the holidays, when you know the weight on your shoulders is beginning to ease away. When you can feel the excitement of that one special day creeping up on you.
When you enter the church, it’s cold. But as you gather in the pews, packed with parents, teachers and students, the warmth finds its way through the layers of thick coats and wool. Soon the buzz of chatter is silenced by the angelic orchestra. Each instrument sings beautifully to the echoing walls and crevices of the vast ceiling. People look up at the architecture in wonder. It hasn’t changed since last year, but is still as magical.
Like a child again, listening to a bedtime story, the gentle low voice reading ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas’ is a lullaby. From your trance-like state you are awakened by the passionate finale. The soulful voices fill the space beyond the ceiling, beyond the eager ears of the audience. United with the orchestra, a new, vibrant sound is formed; so powerful that goosebumps appear not just from the chill of December. And the smiling faces are reflected in the audience with hearty applause.
Without those moments of joy and infinity, what would Christmas be? The real meaning of this profit-making, money-gulping time is making meaningful memories, of happy times of togetherness that can only be created in frosty December. Music has the power to do such things; take it away and Christmas isn’t the same.