Madison’s prompt for this week’s Friday fiction made me sad.
“Christmas was your favorite time of year.
I hated the holiday. But not you. Every year you’d insist on putting up a damned tree. Had to be real. No artificial tree for you, no sir. I hated it. Pine needles littered the floor. Jim Cat climbed the branches, tipping it over. You’d laugh. Every year, The Christmas Story and It’s a Wonderful Life. Ebenezer had it right—bah humbug!
Strange how your grandfather clock stopped when you passed. Never had the heart to start it again. But I did put up a tree this year. Oh, I know, it’s sad looking and droopy, but then again, so am I. Next year will be better, I promise. But for now, it’s the best I can do.
Merry Christmas, Winnie, I miss you.”