First Christmas

My resolution for 2023 is to write more. So, every two weeks, I will be sharing a (very short) short story, based on 5 words my husband gave me. I wrote this one in the past few weeks. The words I had to use were extension cord, bleached, puppy love, puzzle and pacifier. Here’s the result. The first story, one of many this year. I hope you enjoy it.

The extension cord made its way from the socket all the way to the trunk of the Christmas tree. There, it met with hundreds of twinkly lights, dancing their way up to the top. Round and round they went, illuminating every ornament. The golden baubles. The woodwork penguin with his tiny red sleigh. And the star-shaped cookie.

Next to the tree stood a cherrywood dresser. An antique. It displayed a fairytale village with little houses lit by candles, snowmen dressed in top hats and scarfs and a choo choo train with Santa at the wheel. In the middle of this enchanting ensemble stood a picture. A bit faded, but still radiant with happiness.

Her hair was bleached by the sun. His was brown and curly. She was wearing a yellow dress with white daisies. He was proudly showing off an aquamarine tank top and short shorts. They were standing in a valley. A sea of green grass between two mountains. Not looking at the breathtaking view, but at each other.

‘It might have started as puppy love’, she said, ‘but it became so much more than that. It was a love story for the ages. About two people meeting and immediately knowing they were meant to be together. Like two pieces of a puzzle that can only fit each other.”

He looked up at her with his big blue eyes, his pacifier softly going up and down, up and down, up and down. She smiled back at him as she cradled him in her arms. ‘Sleep now, my love, and go see daddy.’


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s