Saturday, December 17, 2016

Ever Here

The flood washed everything away, including me. At the kids’ urging, Con stayed. So, among the tangled roots that emerged from the drained lake bed, my spirit lingered. First, Con rebuilt the dock, certain of the water’s return. The construction lulled me to sleep beneath green foliage blanketing the bank. Then, I awakened among brown leaves, hearing metal clanking above. I peered around the planks and saw a lighted framework tree. We’d had one each Christmas, now for thirty-seven years. Eyes glistening as he viewed it, Con said softly, “Not evergreen, but ever here.” I stretched, yawned, and nestled deeper.

This 100 word story is offered as an entry for the annual Advent Ghosts event hosted by Loren Eaton at I Saw Lightning Fall. See the other entries there. Thanks, Loren, for the opportunity!

Photo from Walmart Online Catalog


  1. I love this. Organic, spooky yet warm. Floods are the worst.

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  3. Loved the imagination, Paula.
    Congrats on a fine piece of writing.

  4. How kind. Thank you both for stopping by!

  5. Huh. I really like this one. It's ... almost a kind of peaceful horror, nearly serene. Well done.

  6. Loren, I am so grateful for your annual Advent Ghosts event. Thank you for hosting it and for bringing readers so many lovely holiday stories. Elizabeth, TKM, and Rhonda, thanks so much for stopping by and leaving such kind comments. Happy holidays to all!