The garland

At  Sunday Scribbling 2  our given word is Holly

This week's Sunday Whirl words are gasps, dial, left, angels, slap, snare, dust, remember, loss, pause, days and cold.

All that is left is the holly garland outside. It is  tied to my door knocker. I will fetch it later. All other bits are gone. The wilting tree, the unused mistletoe. Paper chains stuffed into plastic sacks awaiting the bin men. I’ve dusted here, swept there. Suddenly the day feels colder, the comforts of Yuletide gone. I’m at a loss. I pause. Sigh. Sink.

I remember the holly garland. I heave open the door. An ice cold breeze slaps my cheeks. I gasp at what I see before me. A tiny sad-faced fairy flutters its gossamer wings but goes nowhere. For she is snared by the points and prickles of the cruel holly leaves. I gently release her. She smiles, and with a wave of her little wand, I am showered with golden stars. I raise my hand as she flies heavenward. She smiles back.

Suddenly everything seems right with my world. 

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