I woke up as sunlight kissed my bare skin. I yawed and rolled over in a strange bed. My eyes focused on the view before me. The floor to ceiling glass windows and doors, led to a balcony and beyond there, the sun sparkled on the crystal waves of the sea.
I threw the white satin sheet back and walked to the door, I opened it, slide if back and stepped out into the warmth. The sea lapped below me, the sun played across the golden beach and I remembered then where I was.
I looked out of the motorhome window, rubbing sleep from my eyes. The sky was becoming light but the streetlamps were still on. I could hear water in the dock lapping the boats. Birds were singing and a car engine was fading into the distance.
I couldn’t remember arriving, I must have slept through. I got up, dressed and went outside. Cold air bruised my face, I smelt the salt off the water and I felt glad to finally have escaped.
(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2020/01/08/10-january-2020/ with thanks).
The house was quiet, such a strange feeling for today! I stood in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil. My body had kept me up most of the night and my old husband had been complaining again.
I had gone into the spare double bedroom which was made up for my daughter and her husband’s arrival later on. Next door, the grandchildren’s room was ready also.
The whole house felt like it was holding itself in, ready to burst when my family broke down the door and stormed the Christmas tree.
Only then would I feel like it was Christmas day.
It was early morning and still mostly dark. The grass was crisp with frost and the road sparkling. Most people were still in bed but I was making my way to the church. It was the eve before Christmas Eve and many things still needed to be done.
I was dressed not in my normal vicar robes but a heavy coat underneath was a handmade wool cardigan, black shirt with my white colour, grey trousers and soft shoes. Even so, I still felt winter’s chill and I knew once inside it would be even colder.
My house wasn’t that far away but I had to walk up a narrow pathway then enter the back of the graveyard and go across there to the small side door. It was treacherous when icy or snowy but last night hadn’t been cold enough to make it so.
I opened the gate to the graveyard, which I kept well oiled as I hated the loud screeching squeak. The headstones looked strange in the half light, some looked like fallen rocks and others like hunched figures. There were a few pathways that led through and I took the main one up. The grass was kept short, as I liked it and the gravestones well tended even if there was no family member left to do so.
I got the door, unlocked it with a too larger key and stepped inside. The smells of wax and damp stone met me. I stomped my boots and hurried to turn on the lights and the old 1960’s heaters. They should have been replaced long ago but money was needed else were and I don’t think it would matter anyway. Nothing could keep the church warm – too many gaps in the windows, doors and brickwork now.
I got on with my tasks; placing candles about, fixing the wings of an angel that a child had snapped off the other day. Make sure the winter food giving table was’t over full and removing a few things into the boxes underneath. I checked the stacks of prayer books, bibles, song sheets and other papers make sure no mice had gotten to them and they weren’t left too close to the leaking windows.
There were loads of other things but I didn’t made doing them. It give me time to think and enjoy the silence of the church. I sometimes hummed hymens, played a tune on the organ or went though some of the CD music to easily remember their numbers without having to look it up.
My final task before leaving the church was to check to the mice traps. Any little furries in there, I would collect and take the traps outside with me when I left. I didn’t believe like the last vicar and groundskeeper that they should be killed. I caught them alive and set them free in the fields I past by on the way home.
Today, as I did that and watched their little white and brown bodies disappearing into the frosty grass, I saw a robin on the fence post. He seemed to be watching me.
‘Good day,’ I whispered.
He put his head to one side as if wondering why I was speaking to him.
‘Cold out isn’t it? The church might be a bit warmer but don’t get frozen on the window sills!’
He chirped a little and dropped down into the grass.
‘Robins always remind me of Christmas. It’s said one relight a fire in the stable and an ember burnt his chest. Of course, there are lots of other stories,’ I spoke.
The robin fluttered about, looking for food and I wished I’d brought something with me.
‘Next time, little fellow,’ I said and walked back to my warm house and breakfast.
(Inspired by; https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/12/19/tale-weaver-254-christmas-tales-19-12/ with thanks).
I could feel the damp coldness on the window and hear the gale force wind driving the rain. Sighing, I pressed my fevered forehead to the glass. I had wanted to go out today, get some fresh air and pick up a few things. Instead, an open window and rummage through the kitchen cupboards would have to do.
Something warm and furry brushed my fingers then a cool wet tongue licked my hand. My guide dog, Hope, had come to my side. I could hear her tail wagging as I reached out and stroked her head and ears.
‘Looks like another day inside for me,’ I said, ‘though Bob should be around soon to take you out.’
Bob was my next door neighbour, he had a guide dog also and another Labrador. He was only blind in one eye but did have some blurred vision in his left. He liked walks and use to do a lot of hiking.
With having the flu, I had asked him to take Hope out for me. She enjoyed being with the other dogs and having some down time from her job of guiding me places.
I crossed the living room and Hope followed at my side.
‘Alexa,’ I called to the device, ‘what’s the weather like today?’
‘Currently it’s forty degrees, heavy rain, strong winds and cloudy. Tonight, there will be more rain.’
‘Alexa, what’s the weather like tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow it will be forty-three degrees, scattered showers and heavy clouds.’
‘Thanks. I’ll try and go out tomorrow.’
There was a knocking on the door. Hope barked and guided me over, though I knew well enough were my front door was.
‘Kat, it’s Bob,’ he called through the door.
I unlocked things and let him in.
‘Hi,’ I said, ‘is the weather as bad as it seems?’
‘Yes,’ Bob replied, ‘I’m in my waterproofs and wellies. Hello Hope. How’s the flu doing?’
‘Bit better. I wanted to go shopping but might be best if I don’t.’
‘Oh? I can go and get you somethings. I climbed mountains so this weather doesn’t bother me!’ Bob replied and laughed.
‘No, it’s okay. I’ll try later,’ I answered.
‘Well, if you can’t, I really don’t mind.’
‘I know but it’s fine honest. Here’s Hope’s lead. Have fun, girl.’
We said goodbye and I went back into my apartment and to the window again. I opened the window and felt the almost freezing air on my face and arms. The wind was strong and water droplets hit my face.
I was glad Bob was heading outside instead of me, it sure felt horrible out there today.
He was running late for his meeting, so he didn’t check his briefcase before leaving the house. All his paperwork was in there though as he had put it in yesterday afternoon, so why wouldn’t it still be?
He got to the meeting, flustered and feeling unprepared. He had to present the company’s finance report to the board, so today was not the time to be panicking.
Everyone was all ready seated, he apologised for being late and got on with things.
He pulled out the paperwork and looked for his notes but what he saw instead was brightly coloured children’s drawings.
(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2019/10/30/1-november-2019/ with thanks).
The sky began to fill with light. The world murmured itself awake. Birds sing the first songs and other animals stirred themselves.
I watched from my bedroom window before I shut the black out curtains. The day was for people who could cope being outside. For me, even the slightest touch of the sun could burn my skin due to a rare allergic reaction I had been born with.
Closing the curtains, I got into bed. Thoughts of being a vampire filling my head. It was a laughable joke but it wasn’t true. I was no more a supernatural creature of the night then my boss was a pig. – Though he probably shared some of their DNA!
I snuggled into the coolness of the fresh sheets and reflected on my night shift at the open all hours petrol station. It had been quiet and I had been bored for a few hours but that was more capable then being rushed off my feet.
Dozing off, I started to dream of the day I was cured and could finally go out in the sun.
(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2019/09/19/thursday-photo-prompt-murmur-writephoto/ with thanks).
On the shore he wandered, lost in his own thoughts. With his head down, he watched the surf lapping at his boots. The sea would be cold, he knew but still he took his boots and socks off. There was just something irresistible about walking barefoot on the beach.
Socks in his pocket, boots in hand, he carried on walking. The sand was cool and the sea cold, but he liked the feeling in between his toes. He let his thoughts go off again, like the seagulls that took flight when he got too close.
The beach was empty at this time in the morning which was how he always liked it. He could be alone without people staring and trying to ask him questions about what happened to his body. Children called him a monster and parents would quickly drag them away.
I was fighting for this country, he wanted to say, a bomb fell on a house, I tried to save the innocent family trapped inside but the fire was too bad.
Unfortunately, he knew it wouldn’t matter. His words couldn’t change the effects of his actions across his skin. However, out here away from it all, nothing cared. The sand and sea couldn’t judge him, he could just be himself, alone with his thoughts and scars.
(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2019/06/06/thursday-photo-prompt-choices-writephoto/ with thanks).
It was Monday morning again. She lay in bed, having slept badly due to all the troubling thoughts. The alarm went and she turned it off. No work again today, she was too tried to face the world. She wondered if there was anything worth living for now.
The sound of children’s voices talking woke Ellie up. She stirred, wanting to go back to sleep after staying up so late finishing off the Christmas preparations. The excitement of her children wasn’t going to allow her that lay in though.
Her bedroom door crept open, squeaking too loud to be ignored and Ellie felt her husband waking up beside her. She nudged him before flipping the duvet back and turning on the lamp. In the glow, she could see her two children standing in the doorway, red stockings clutched in their hands.
‘What is it?’ Ellie asked sleepily, even though she knew the answer thanks to their bright, smiley faces.
‘Christmas!’ they both shouted and dashed for the bed.
Ellie burst into laughter. Her husband groaned then woke up, realising what was happening as the kids began unwrapping presents.
‘Is this all from Santa?’ he asked, looking around in pretend awe.
‘Yes!’ the children answered then began babbling over what they had found in the stockings.
Ellie smiled, her whole body filled with happiness at seeing her children so joyful and this was just the start of Christmas Day, there was a lot more to come throughout the next few hours.
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