Yes it might seem a little early to be thinking about Christmas but I am joining with my online writing group otherwise known as the Dark Fairy Queen and her Brilliant Minions to produce a collection of Christmas stories.
We have collaborated on an anthology before and hopefully this time we will have enough stories to print a proper book not just an e type one - just in time to wrap up for the perfect Christmas present. The deadline is the end of the month!
I really must mention Laura, Ruth, Nick and Missy who are doing all the really hard work of pulling this together - hands out cookies and chocolate to you all - you need to keep your strength up!
As per rules and guidelines:
my story is: "The Angel who didn't like Christmas" by Sarah Nicholson
eBook: definitely YES!
genre: angel fairytale (is that a genre? kind of just made it up!)
word total: 986
Dedication: A story for the Dark Fairy Queen and all my fellow Minions, with love and thanks for the support and laughter received in equal measure over the past year - Merry Christmas xx
OK I think that is all the official boxes ticked - now sit back and enjoy the story!
The Angel who didn't like Christmas
“Tinselitis?” Angel Anna raised an eyebrow suspiciously.
“I’ve got a sick note, signed by Dr Laura. Had all the tests
confirmed.” His nose was already starting to twitch, must be that fake
twinkling Christmas tree strategically placed to make Anna’s desk look festive.
She tapped efficiently on her laptop. “’Tin-sel-i-tis – an allergy to
tinsel, glitter and sparkle.’ Such a shame this time of year.” She said
without a flicker of sympathy.
“So if you’ll just stamp this letter, verify that I’m too
sick for duty I can be getting off home to recover.” Jeff had it all planned
out, a quiet Christmas in front of the TV for a change. He hated being an angel
this time of year.
The telephone rang just as he sneezed.
Anna listened intently to the voice at the other end,
nodding her head. Jeff found a handkerchief in his pocket and blew his nose
with more force than was necessary to make the point that he was still here and
he was sick.
“It seems the Big Man upstairs has a mission for you.” Anna
put down the phone while flashing Jeff her sunniest smile.
“I can’t go down there at Christmas; you know how crazy
those humans get.”
“Special orders.” She hit the send button on her laptop and
he was on his way.
It was angel rush-hour, thousands of them were gliding up
and down the heavenly staircases off to work, each one chattering loudly, all
decked out in their shiny best. Sequins twinkled in every direction like
millions of eyes conspiratorially winking at him.
He shuddered, feeling hot and cold all at once. He should be
in bed sleeping off this fever but it was impossible to escape. Pushed along in
the melee he was trapped and descending earthwards.
He sneezed some more which at least kept his fellow angels
at a distance giving him some much needed space to breathe.
“Special orders”, well that was an honour he supposed, he
couldn’t remember the last time he was singled out for an important mission,
but before he had chance to ponder what it might be he felt the ground give way
beneath him.
“You have reached your destination.” The voice was cheery
yet mechanical as he gracefully floated to the ground.
He stood outside an inauspicious looking house, number 67
with a green door.
Most houses in the street were festooned in bright lights. There
was a lopsided plastic reindeer opposite with a red nose that flashed rather
alarmingly.
Jeff was glad this house was plain and ordinary looking. He
shivered feeling chilly, not feverish this time, just cold, there was snow on
the ground and he had no coat.
Unsure what else to do he rang the doorbell.
It took an age before it was opened by an old man wearing a
cardigan and slippers.
“If you’re selling double glazing I don’t want it. Or a new
driveway. I don’t want a time share and I’ve got enough tea towels to last a
lifetime.”
“I’m not selling anything.”
“Well you’ll freeze to death out there lad, letting all my
good heat out too. You best come in. Don’t suppose you’re a murderer, I’m too
old for this life to care anyway and if you’ve come to rob me I’ve got nowt
worth having.”
Jeff followed the man as he shuffled down the hall into a
stuffy over heated room with the TV turned up loud.
“I was just about to watch The Great Escape, you seen it?”
He didn’t wait for Jeff to answer, “Sit down then lad, you’re making the place
look untidy.”
The room was uncluttered, TV, two armchairs, clock on the
mantelpiece with a photo propped up beside it, mum, dad, three smiling children
somewhere in a sunnier place.
“Family?” Jeff said nodding in the direction of the photo.
“Son, daughter-in-law, in Australia. Now shush, film’s about
to start.”
Sometimes it didn’t matter where you went, heaven or earth,
you were destined to be ordered about.
They watched in silence, each of them so caught up in the familiar
story there was no need to speak.
As Steve McQueen was shut in the cooler for the last time
the man got to his feet, “Cup of tea?”
“I’d prefer a beer.”
“Oh what the heck, it is Christmas I suppose.” Said the man
with a definite twinkle in his eye.
They chinked their glasses together.
“So what’s your story then? Turning up on an old man’s
doorstep on Christmas day out of the blue.”
“Would it surprise you if I said I was an angel?”
“An angel! So what’s your name then Gabriel?”
“Jeff”
“That’s not an angel
name. Jeff?” The man shook his head but he was beginning to grin.
“So what’s your name then?”
“Michael.”
“Now that is a good angel name.”
“Pah! You can call me Wombat.”
“Wombat?”
“Always fancied having a nickname. Don’t you think it suits
me?” He tried to twitch his whiskery face which made them both suddenly roar
with laughter. “It’s good to laugh ain’t it. I ain’t laughed properly for …
well for a long time.”
Jeff studied the man, looked at the photo on the mantelpiece
and surveyed a room devoid of Christmas cheer. He guessed his mission was just
to keep this man company, not much of a special order but he had to admit this
wasn’t a bad way to spend Christmas.
They sat companionably, laughing at the festive
entertainment on the flickering box in the corner.
All of a sudden Jeff was aware of another presence; the room
had become still and quiet for the first time. Anna stood beside Michael’s
chair.
“Is he gone?”
She nodded, “Peacefully and happy.”
“And that was my special mission?”
She opened the folder she was carrying. “Last heartfelt
prayer of an old soldier: please don’t let
me spend my last Christmas on earth alone.”
