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Wish

 



I wrote a very Christmassy flash fiction story this December, so thought what better time to publish it on the blog. I was really delighted that this was short-listed out of 1200 entries in the Australian Writers' Centre Furious Fiction competition.


Wish

 

'Come with us.'

In the gossamer thin veil between asleep and awake, Alice left her bed and opened the window. Below, in the dim blue glow of moonlight upon snow, a parade of carriages and sleighs slipped down the street, festooned with holly wreaths and swags of red ribbon. Candlelight burned within the carriages and the voices beckoned her along, although nobody else appeared to hear.

Alice felt no fear at all as she climbed down the ivy and ran after them. The snow underfoot did not sting her bare feet and her nightgown felt as cosy as when it was warmed by the fire. The stationary last carriage glowed like a pumpkin and she stepped up inside to meet its owner.

'You made a wish, Alice,' said the little man. He was dressed in a suit of plum and evergreen and reclined on a sumptuous velvet banquette. 'You wished for your mama to be home for Christmas.'

Alice nodded. Papa said that she had gone forever, but she couldn't be.

'We heard your wish. Would you like to come with us to find her?' His apple cheeks shone pink in the candlelight.

Alice glanced back at the village. Something in his voice told her she could have one or the other. She thought of Papa in his cold study, bent over his desk, all alone. Then Mama, warm and smiling, but she couldn't clearly remember her face. She looked at her hands and bit her lip.

The man's voice was kind. 'It's alright not to know what you want, child. Wishes are like wind. They change all the time.' He smiled and reached under a soft woollen blanket. 'Here, I have a gift from her. From your mama.'

He held a small box, wrapped with a crimson ribbon - with one pull it was open. Alice reached out her hand and in it he placed something the likes of which she had never seen. In her palm lay a little rose, as small as a match. She bent her head to it and breathed in. Though it was exquisitely tiny, it smelled like a garden full of roses, her mother's favourite scent.

'Will we drive on?'

Alice gripped the little rose and felt its thorns.

'I can't' she said, knowing Papa would be awake soon. She jumped down from the carriage onto the street  and before she could say thank you or goodbye the snow began to fall so fast and thick that she could see nothing at all. Whirls of white dizzied her into darkness until her eyes opened and she was back in bed.

She crept downstairs to the Christmas tree. There were presents underneath from Papa. A silvery glint caught her eye - a new decoration, a minuscule rose, hung from a branch. Although her palm still stung with tiny thorn pricks, Alice smiled.

 

LJ

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