The Opposite of Light
Today, as part of the Giftmas 2017 blog tour, I am delighted to host a guest blog post from Rhonda Parrish
The theme of this blog tour is ‘Shining a Light’ and when J.S. agreed to host me for this post she suggested I might want to write about something that referenced my writing. “Awesome,” I thought. “I’ll just grab a story or poem I’ve written about Christmas, share that and talk about it a bit. No problem, it’s as good as done, son.”
And then I went looking through my writing to find a story.
Ha!
I have plenty of stories about Christmas and the holiday season but every single one of them is dark or depressing in some way -- the opposite of light…
For example, this little bit of flash fiction I wrote ten years ago:
Merry Christmas
The old man smiles and watches the children play in piles of bright paper while the Christmas tree, decorated with love and gaily lit, towers above them. The fireplace snaps and crackles in the background and the old hound dog stretched out before it sighs in his sleep and turns over without waking; oblivious to the sounds of the little ones playing with their gifts and tossing paper, ribbon and boxes this way and that.
Looking away from the dog the man peers into the kitchen. From where he stands he can't see very much, but the light is warm and cheery and he can almost smell the turkey roasting in the oven. The haunting sounds of carols sung by an old-fashioned choir seduce his ears and he hums along while a goofy smile dances on his lips.
He wishes he could stay. He wants nothing more than to remain as he is, immersed in the homey scene of a family Christmas. To stay lost in the pleasant memories of holidays past, of laughing at silly jokes with his family, drinking egg nog by the fire and soaking up the joy that radiated from the younger ones as they reveled in the magic of the season.
He wishes he could stay, but even now he can feel the cold seeping in, drawing the warmth from his skin, cooling his blood. He can feel its icy fingers chipping away at his good mood, at the illusion he’s created for himself.
He wishes he could stay, but he can't, and so, hitching his backpack over one shoulder, he sighs and reaches for the cart in front of him.
With one last long, lingering look at the television screen in the department store window the old man starts off down the street. His shopping cart, filled with all his earthly belongings, clatters and bangs as he pushes it across the unshoveled street. It gets stuck in a rut and as he struggles to loose it impatient drivers, warm in cars loaded up with shiny packages, honk and shake their fists.
"Merry Christmas," he whispers, "Merry Christmas."
*
It’s not the jolliest of stories, nor the most subtle, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe, even now—especially now?—when we’re trying to focus on positives and doing good for other people, it’s important to look into the dark too. And try to change it.
If you are able, please donate to our fundraiser to benefit the Edmonton Food Bank at https://www.canadahelps.org/en/pages/... and if you’re not able to support it financially, check out the Rafflecopter athttps://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/dis... which will reward you for supporting it in other ways.
And Merry Giftmas!
***
Rhonda Parrish is driven by a desire to do All The Things. She founded and ran Niteblade Magazine, is an Assistant Editor at World Weaver Press and is the editor of several anthologies including, most recently, Equus and Mrs. Claus.
In addition, Rhonda is a writer whose work has been in publications such as Tesseracts 17: Speculating Canada from Coast to Coast and Imaginarium: The Best Canadian Speculative Writing (2012 & 2015). She also co-wrote a paranormal non-fiction title, Haunted Hospitals, with Mark Leslie.
Her website, updated weekly, is at http://www.rhondaparrish.com
The theme of this blog tour is ‘Shining a Light’ and when J.S. agreed to host me for this post she suggested I might want to write about something that referenced my writing. “Awesome,” I thought. “I’ll just grab a story or poem I’ve written about Christmas, share that and talk about it a bit. No problem, it’s as good as done, son.”
And then I went looking through my writing to find a story.
Ha!
I have plenty of stories about Christmas and the holiday season but every single one of them is dark or depressing in some way -- the opposite of light…
For example, this little bit of flash fiction I wrote ten years ago:
Merry Christmas
The old man smiles and watches the children play in piles of bright paper while the Christmas tree, decorated with love and gaily lit, towers above them. The fireplace snaps and crackles in the background and the old hound dog stretched out before it sighs in his sleep and turns over without waking; oblivious to the sounds of the little ones playing with their gifts and tossing paper, ribbon and boxes this way and that.
Looking away from the dog the man peers into the kitchen. From where he stands he can't see very much, but the light is warm and cheery and he can almost smell the turkey roasting in the oven. The haunting sounds of carols sung by an old-fashioned choir seduce his ears and he hums along while a goofy smile dances on his lips.
He wishes he could stay. He wants nothing more than to remain as he is, immersed in the homey scene of a family Christmas. To stay lost in the pleasant memories of holidays past, of laughing at silly jokes with his family, drinking egg nog by the fire and soaking up the joy that radiated from the younger ones as they reveled in the magic of the season.
He wishes he could stay, but even now he can feel the cold seeping in, drawing the warmth from his skin, cooling his blood. He can feel its icy fingers chipping away at his good mood, at the illusion he’s created for himself.
He wishes he could stay, but he can't, and so, hitching his backpack over one shoulder, he sighs and reaches for the cart in front of him.
With one last long, lingering look at the television screen in the department store window the old man starts off down the street. His shopping cart, filled with all his earthly belongings, clatters and bangs as he pushes it across the unshoveled street. It gets stuck in a rut and as he struggles to loose it impatient drivers, warm in cars loaded up with shiny packages, honk and shake their fists.
"Merry Christmas," he whispers, "Merry Christmas."
*
It’s not the jolliest of stories, nor the most subtle, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe, even now—especially now?—when we’re trying to focus on positives and doing good for other people, it’s important to look into the dark too. And try to change it.
If you are able, please donate to our fundraiser to benefit the Edmonton Food Bank at https://www.canadahelps.org/en/pages/... and if you’re not able to support it financially, check out the Rafflecopter athttps://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/dis... which will reward you for supporting it in other ways.
And Merry Giftmas!
***
Rhonda Parrish is driven by a desire to do All The Things. She founded and ran Niteblade Magazine, is an Assistant Editor at World Weaver Press and is the editor of several anthologies including, most recently, Equus and Mrs. Claus.
In addition, Rhonda is a writer whose work has been in publications such as Tesseracts 17: Speculating Canada from Coast to Coast and Imaginarium: The Best Canadian Speculative Writing (2012 & 2015). She also co-wrote a paranormal non-fiction title, Haunted Hospitals, with Mark Leslie.
Her website, updated weekly, is at http://www.rhondaparrish.com
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