The 365 Stories Project – Month Three
Liane Little
© 2010 by Liane Little
Published by Liane Little at Smashwords.com, 2010
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Graphic: © nuttakit – freedigitalphotos.net
Cover Design: Liane Little
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank, as always, my friends and family for all of their support.
I'd also like to send a shout out to everyone who has been following The 365 Stories Project blog. You're terrific!
Table of Contents
Introduction
The 365 Stories Project started off as a challenge. A challenge to write a short story, usually under 1000 words, every day for a full year.
As the first week passed, writing every morning got to be routine and now I find that, in addition to being challenging, it is also a way to steal some relaxation first thing in the morning.
I hope that you continue to follow the blog and read the stories as they come out.
The theory behind it is that one story is posted on the blog each day and each month will become an ebook. A paperback version containing all of the stories will be released when the project is finished. This particular volume contains the stories posted between December 16th, 2010 and January 15th 2011.
Enjoy!
Play Time
“Mom, can I go outside and play?” Billy asked. He'd been quarantined indoors for a few days now and was nearly bored to tears.
His mother walked to the couch where he was peering out the front window. “The weather's still not nice enough, honey. Maybe tomorrow.”
Billy sighed, longing to frolic in the snow with his friends. “But everyone else is outside! Please, Mom!”
She shook her head. “And look at what condition they're in! They're all going to go home sopping wet with dripping noses. You want to feel well at Christmas don't you?”
His mother left it at that and went into the kitchen to continue with her Christmas baking, leaving Billy perched on the couch.
An hour later, his mother was still busy in the kitchen. Billy squinted through the bright sunshine and found where his friends were playing across the street. It took a split second to make the decision to sneak out and soon enough he was running around and shouting with the others.
“Billy! Come inside right now!” his mother shouted from the doorstep two games of tag later. “This instant!”
Billy waved sadly at his friends and slouched home, expecting a major lecture and his mother did not disappoint. His mother took him inside and made him wait in the foyer while she mopped up the puddle forming on the floor, scolding him the entire time.
Once she was done, she went to go put the towels in the hamper. In the moment she was gone, Billy felt an uncomfortable sensation in his nose, a strange detached feeling. When his mother came back, his bright carrot orange nose was laying on the floor and he was crouched beside it sobbing.
“Oh, honey! That's why I didn't want you outside! It's too warm for snow-people! Now you're going to have to stay outside tonight so you won't melt away.”
All I Want For Christmas
Kevin marched down the street, much as he did every day. The only thing different was the determined set of his shoulders.
He had saved every spare penny he'd had for the past year in order to pull this off. Now that the day had come, nothing was going to stop him. Absolutely nothing, not the boots that weren't keeping his toes warm, not the surprise blizzard that had carpeted the town the day before. None of it.
He towed a loaded sled behind him with his lips forming a wide grin. How he wished he could see their faces Christmas morning once they found their gifts standing on the lawns with the big shiny bows on top.
Nearly half of the houses he'd had on his list had received their present. Each one had been marked on his own personal naughty list and each one was getting a very special gift this year.
The longer he spent delivering, the harder it was. There was a reason these people had been chosen and it was this reason that the job got more and more difficult at each home.
When Kevin finally reached the last snow-covered house, he was out of breath and so thoroughly exhausted he could hardly lift his feet to carry him to the front step to stab the shovel handle first into the snowbank in front of the door and position the bow just right.
He whirled around, excited to finally be heading back to his own home to spend the rest of Christmas Eve in warmth. To his dismay, he moved too quickly and his feet got tangled around the shovel and his sled. Kevin toppled face first into the drifted over front steps and came up sputtering curses.
The door opened, showering him in bright light and the sound of carols. “What are you going on about?” the owner demanded angrily.
Kevin was brushing the snow off of his face and glared at the man. “All I want this year is for people to shovel their damn sidewalks. Merry freaking Christmas.”
Imposter
“They're going to see the truth!” Fran thought in a panic as the parade float began to move.
It was the start of the annual festival and Fran had been The One. The one chosen to be the legend. Fran was a decent enough actress, but there was always the doubt of being good enough and those doubts were about to be her downfall as she shakily waved, smiled, and gestured to the adoring crowds.
To be honest, she was regretting getting the organizers to give her her own float.
Her nerves didn't calm until they were just blocks away from the finish line. The fans seemed to become more and more gracious as the float inched forward and Fran's confidence grew in turn. She got more into the role and was soon dancing and playing up to the crowd, having a marvellous time.
Feet from the end of the route, there was one small boy. Fran reached out to shake his hand and the boy started wailing. “You're not real! You're a fake! I want to meet the real one! I don't like you!”
Fran could hear the boy well past the finish line when they were loading up the float for it to go to storage. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute and he was heartbroken. Overall, she'd thought that she'd done a fair job. It was obvious that she could never do an absolutely perfect impression, but she felt like a horrible imposter nonetheless.
That night, long after the city had fallen asleep, there was the sound of footsteps moving in Fran's living room. She grabbed a bat and inched down the stairs to find the last person in the world she had been expecting.
“Hello, Fran.” Flustered, Fran put the bat aside and returned the greeting. “I thought you did a wonderful job today.”
“The boy didn't think so,” Fran mumbled miserably.
The man laughed. “There's always one. Don't let it get to you.”
“I guess.”
“I can't stay long. Just a little pit stop on my through town. I was asked to drop that off for you.”
Fran looked over under the tree and saw a long, flat wrapped box sitting there, waiting for her to tear open the wrapping paper. She turned to thank him properly and found that he was already long gone.
Gazing at the clock, she found that it was Christmas morning and was thus allowed to tear open the paper and satisfy the curiosity that was about to get the best of her.
With the wrapping off and tossed to the side, she lifted the lid of the box slowly, holding her breath, and found a gorgeous red cloak with white trim. “Oh! It's lovely!” she gasped.
As she flung the robe around her shoulders, she found a note pinned to it.
Fran,
Out of all the parades that have been, there have been few that have done me the service you have done today. Thank you so much for thinking to include me in the festivities this year in a big way. I hope that you will do me the honour of wearing this next year.
Mrs. Clause.
Acceptance
“Oh, my God!” Janice shrieked. “I got in! I got in!”