Flat Country Snow

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The snow started about an hour before I left town. The weatherman said “flurries” so I didn’t give it a second thought. Thirty minutes into my journey I couldn’t see. My headlights were packed with snow. It came down hard and fast.

Unfamiliar roads, no hedgerows, flat open country. I knew from my trip to Thetford a canal ran along by the road. It was pretty in the sunlight, boats gliding along its glassy surface, but I couldn’t remember which side. In the flat white landscape that surrounded me, I couldn’t see. I was terrified I’d slide into the icy waters.

My head ached with concentration! I skidded! My heart missed a beat! I straightened up. My little yellow car was the only vehicle on the road. If anything happened, if I got into an accident, I’d freeze to death. Or maybe I’d drown in the icy waters of the canal. Inching along at ten miles an hour, tears streaming down my face, I prayed.

Please God get me home for Christmas.
Don’t let me die.

Sliding slowly sideways. Out of control. What shall I do? Oh dear god what shall I do?

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One Last Christmas – A Whisper and a Sigh!

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Christmas Eve is alway special to me. I remember as a child being allowed to stay up late and watch for Santa as he sped across the sky. I alway saw him. “Mum, look, there he is,” I’d say. To which my Mum would reply. “Quick, get ready for bed. Santa only leaves Christmas presents for children who are asleep.

SantaAs fast as I could I would run up the stairs and get ready for bed. I’d peep from under the covers, but was ALWAYS asleep before Santa made his delivery.

Last Christmas eve I sat alone in front of the fire and thought about my mum. She’s been dead over ten years and I miss her. Everyone else was in bed and I was enjoying the peace and quiet, and one last glass of wine.

I whispered to my mother, hoping she was listening from above, “Mum, I miss you. I wish you were here for just one more Christmas. I remember how flustered you used to be as you prepared for Christmas day. You were so eager to make every year the best Christmas ever. Your mince pies were the best, your sage and onion stuffing was to die for and your tearful hug on Christmas morning always made everything right.”

I heard the sound of tinkling bells, where did it come from, I wondered. I looked out of the window and gasped as I saw a familiar image in the night sky far above. It couldn’t be Santa could it?

I heard a sigh from behind me, and turned to see who was there. I was no one, but smelled ‘Lily of the Valley’, my mothers favorite fragrance. Inhaling deeply I stepped forward and closed my eyes. Briefly I felt warm arms envelop me, just for a moment, and then they were gone.

I got my wish. My mother shared one last Christmas with me.

Merry Christmas everyone. Enjoy your family while you can. 

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TRAVEL TALES AND MISHAPS

To purchase my new novel from Amazon, click on the link below.

A German Ghost Story

 

Christmas Ghost by the fire?

It was Christmas Eve 1998 and the first Christmas in our new house, well new to us anyway. After a lovely family evening together I was the last to go to bed and lingered by the fire, enjoying its warmth. Suddenly  the aroma of gingerbread filled the room. It was a wonderful smell but where was it coming from? Puzzled, I made to switch on the lights but froze when I heard a noise behind me.

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Turning around, I saw the shadow of a little boy. He was in the old wooden rocking chair by the fire eating the gingerbread cookies we had left on the hearth for Santa. My heart missed a beat as the child turned and looked directly at me whilst sliding off the chair. As he walked in my direction I realized he was not looking at  me at all. His gaze was fixed on the Christmas Tree and passed right through me to reach it. It was a strange feeling, but not unpleasant.

He sat on the floor for a while mesmerized by the tree. Smiling, he reached out and touched the ornaments one by one, making them jingle like sleigh bells.

Decorated-Christmas-Tree-2Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Had I imagined it? I was pretty tired. Maybe wine mixed with tiredness allowed my imagination to play tricks on me? I lingered for a while, but there was nothing to see.

CHRISTMAS MORNING

“Mummy, MUMMY! Come on get up its CHRISTMAS!” It was my daughter Louise shouting excitedly from downstairs. I washed quickly and grabbed my robe. “Oh mummy look at all of these presents, Santa must think I’m nice this year”.

I smiled at her excitement. Les walked sleepily downstairs. “Daddy, Santa left things for you too” Louise proceeded to open her gifts, throwing paper over her shoulder as she did so. Les followed me into the kitchen and grabbed some orange juice while I put the kettle on to make a cup of tea.

“I’m glad you remembered to eat the cookies last night. I forgot about them and our smart little girl would be suspicious if the cookies were still there” Les said as he walked back to the Christmas tree.

I looked across at the hearth, and the empty plate that had once held three gingerbread cookies. “It wasn’t me, or Santa this year” I said to no-one

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My first short story ‘Girl on the Beach’ is currently available on Amazon. My upcoming novel ‘Dead of July’ is currently in the capable hands of my editor, Amy Eye. It will be released in March 2013.

Girl on the Beach (UK)

Girl on the Beach (US)