Writing Exercise: Merry Christmas, ho ho ho!

[Soixenta]

“Ben is coming,” the old lady said. “Let me wait a little longer. He’ll be here soon.”

Meg exchanged glances with Jade. It was late on Christmas Eve, and the old lady needed to go to bed. She was the only one still in the common room, stubbornly clinging to the arm of the sofa and her belief in a husband who was a decade dead.

“Milly,” Jade said softly, “he’s not coming. Ben’s not coming, and it’s late. Come on, let me take you to your bed.”

“No!” The old lady’s thin voice held surprising force. “He’ll be here soon. Just let me wait. You can go, I can find my own way after he’s been.”

Meg shook her head and came to join Jade by the old lady’s side. “Milly love, it’s been a long day. Your husband isn’t coming anymore.”

There was a sad smile on her face, but inside she was cursing. It had been a long day, and she wanted to go home. Everyone else got to celebrate Christmas, but she and Jade had been on duty. She didn’t resented it, but enough was enough. She wanted to go home.

“He said he’d see me at Christmas.” Milly’s hand gripped the sofa so hard that it trembled. “He told me to wait for him. So don’t you girls tell me to go to bed!”

The clock in hall – the old-fashioned one to make the old dears feel comfortable – began to chime. One, two, three… all the way to midnight. This had gone on long enough. Christmas Eve or not, sometimes you had to be firm.

“Milly–” Meg began, just as Jade opened her mouth to speak. But the old lady was looking past them. Her eyes were wide, and her face looked almost young.

“Ben? Ben my love, there you are!”

Meg shook her head, sharing a sad smile with Jade. Whatever Milly was seeing, maybe she’d be ready to go to bed now. Give it a few moments, she thought, let her get it out of her system. Then she’ll come meekly.

She turned in the direction that Milly was looking, and froze. Standing across the common room was a man.

He was young, in a suit with a flower in his button-hole. His hair was in a neat parting, and he wore square glasses. He held out his hand. “Milly, my sweet. Shall we go?”

Another form crossed Meg’s vision: a young woman, in a neat frock, her hair falling across her shoulders in gentle waves. “Ben. I told them you’d come for me.”

Meg shot a glance back at the sofa. The old woman had fallen back, her hand had relaxed. There was a stillness about her that was final, absolute.

 

[vanmyers86]

A simple vignette here, the start of a larger story:

A frigid gust of wind found its way under Bonnie Baker’s woolen peacoat, setting off a wave of shivers. Quickening her pace through the crowded parking lot, Bonnie made for the giant store’s door. Once inside, she stood there, relieved to be out of the weather.

A sudden shove nearly knocked her down.

“Don’t just stand there in everybody’s way,” a woman cried. “Move it!”

Mouth open to reply in kind, Bonnie locked eyes with the shopper, noting her overstuffed handbag already spilling into the cart’s baby seat. She dropped her glance when she heard a whimper and saw a small girl at the woman’s side, tear-filled eyes huge with stress. Making a quick decision, she stepped aside.

“After you,” she said courteously, and gave the little girl a wink as her mother harrumphed past Bonnie.

“Some people have no consideration,” the woman exclaimed, yanking her daughter behind her.

“Silly bitch,” an elderly man said under his breath, walking into the entryway. His eyes met Bonnie’s. “Some people have no consideration.”

He gave a courtly wave. “After you, my dear.”

Stepping into the store, she nearly walked right back out when she saw the crush of people inside. Heart racing, Bonnie gulped, looked longingly at the door, then returned her gaze to the store’s interior. Inhaling deeply, she straightened her spine. She had a gift to buy. She had to be strong.

“A little intimidating, isn’t it?” the old man remarked, making her jump. She hadn’t realized he was still there. He smiled gently at her, his eyes soft, as if he knew exactly how she felt.

“A little,” and even she could hear the anxiety in her voice. “But I’d rather face this now than my daughter next week, and me not having what she asked for.”

“We’ll do anything for our kids, won’t we?” the man agreed. He gave her another smile, and a hard knot of tension in her belly seemed to ease. “I’ll leave you to it, my dear. Happy hunting.”

“Thank you,” she replied, but he had already disappeared into the crowd.