A Week Before Christmas

 

A Week Before Christmas

A chimney with fire inside

Wiping off the coffee marks on her table, she looked up at those rising flames. Fireplace in the front reminded her of his family. Aunt Jenna, Sarah, and Mike, Joanna, Jeremy, and Kaira. There wasn’t a single holiday that went by without their presence, in the past four years.

But today.

‘Yea, Mom. I’ll be alright.’

‘Of course.’

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‘What’s going to happen to your stubborn bad ass kiddo?’

‘Mo… Wha..? I can’t hear your voice. Wait. I’ll call you back later.’

The Sunrays hugged her face gently as if to give her hope.

Hope she longed for.

She adjusted her spectacles and began to write.

Dear Mark,

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Mark..

I still remember the first day we met. When you forgot your umbrella back home and took mine by accident. I took you for a thief and ran after you. I mean, c’mon! You can’t do that to anyone when it rains in winters. But then, again, it was you. You had to argue your way through it. Defending yourself. A typical lawyer as you are. I still can’t figure out how you do it. That subtle sarcasm with a pinch of smile on your face. It’s almost like you know I would give up in the end. Or at least, you used to.

Those coffees you used to get for me when I worked till late. I don’t know how but the aroma still hangs in the air when I go to the kitchen. I miss Joanna. Maybe more than you. No, I miss everyone. It’s not because of holidays or something. But.

Never mind.

I’m writing this letter because I think we both got enough time to think about it. I’m done with my relationship issues. Guess what Mark?

I’m not scared of being with you.

I’m writing this because I just want to get it out of my system.

If you know what I mean. Of course, you do. 4 years is not that short after all.

I mean, maybe if we could catch up sometime.

Or maybe if you want to give this another try.

I know you said you’re tired of running after me. For everything. You don’t have to Mark. Not anymore. I hope you’d just think about it and maybe reply back to me when you get this.

    Abigail 

She folded the paper and crushed it between her palms. The letter made its way swinging from her hand to the grey dustbin in one corner of the room.

‘Well.. well. If I can’t write any more now, let’s just call it my doom.’

As she shut the curtains, a slight crimson orange filled the room.

‘Here, dobby. We wouldn’t want to spoil that rug now. Oh, c’mon!’ Abigail placed a bookmark on page 554 and got up to pick the cookie crumbs her dog had left before the bugs found out about their new cook in town.

*

As she came back home from her office, she felt the tingle of a freshly baked vanilla cake coming from her kitchen. As much as she suspected someone had broken into her house, she noticed nothing was misplaced. Not even any footprints!

She prowled through the hall, quietly picking up the bat hidden besides the living room shelf.

As she approached the kitchen door..

‘You???????’

‘Who else has the keys, Abi?’

‘But, No. Wait. You can’t! You were…Is it really you?? It can’t be.! You said you had to leave for France. What about that? I thought you..’

‘I’m home now, and that’s all that matt..’

‘Surprise.. Surprise!!!!’

‘WOOOFFF! WOOFFF WOOOOFF!’

Dobby came running down the hall to the kitchen as she pounced on another cookie in Mark’s hand.

Sarah and Joanna hugged her while Jeremy made his way right into the cake, digging his fingers deep into the crust.

*

‘I’m glad you’re here.’ Abigail put her feet on top of his while they shared a blanket and watched ‘A Christmas Carol’ the movie.

Dobby climbed up on top and curled into a soft fur ball on her lap.

When she woke up around midnight, Abigail saw an envelope near Mark’s bag. It was addressed to Mark, and the paper inside had caused a bit of a bulge in the jacket. It was her letter. The letter she wrote but never posted!

‘How come…No way!!! This cannot..’ She gasped and ran towards Mark.

‘Mark? Did you come because of this letter?’

He could hardly open his eyes before she started on again.

‘Mark?? Tell me!’

‘Uh. Yea. I got it yesterday only.’

‘But I never posted it. I wrote it like a week ago. How can it be possible.’

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his lap. As he placed a kiss, he whispered in her ear,

‘Well, babe. Let’s just call it a Christmas miracle then. Shall we?’

She smiled and saw the light entering through the open curtains. Those stars painted like tiny white crumbs in the sky told her all she needed to know.

Arushi Sharma

Arushi Sharma is a writer by profession and a wildlife enthusiast. She has actively participated in Leadership Training Service Programmes during her school life. Besides this, she has been working in the Management and Human Resource department for Beats Music Academy. She is an Advocate, writing under the pen name R.S. and currently working as a freelancer, you can reach her at arushisharma1494@gmail.com for any queries or feedback.

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