I Think I Can Hear Sleigh Bells
Spindly fingers of ice are flowering on the outside of my window pane. Creeping slowly across the glass, they etch complex patterns and diffract the pale moonlight into a thousand sparkles as it steals into my darkened bedroom.
Beyond this frosty frame, our garden reclines under a draped blanket of fresh snow. Tomorrow I will trample crazed boot prints across this pristine fluffy eiderdown, and tumble madly, and laugh like a maniac, and roll a tubby body, and a smaller head, and adorn my snowy Frankenstein with carrot, and coals, and a hat, and a scarf.
Tomorrow I will build.
But not tonight…
Tonight I will wait impatiently, with my fingers gripped hard onto this cool window sill, peering out into the star-filled sky. Watching. Waiting. Hoping.
He will have begun his journey by now…
Tonight I will stay awake. This year I will succeed where I have always failed. This year I will see him.
My eyelashes flutter, drawn downwards by the heavy burdens of a long year of growing and learning but I am stronger than my errant eyelids. My will is formidable, my ambition absolute… So it won’t do any harm if I slide a little further beneath the warm duvet… I can still see the sky from here… It won’t hurt if I curl up on my side, like this… Or to let my head sink slowly into the soft pillow…
I’m not going to fall asleep.
For my first Christmas Blog Post I wanted to try to find a creative way to extend the Season’s Greetings to my visitors. In the end, I elected to try to conjure up some traditional Christmas magic and excitement with a piece of flash-fiction.
These 250 words attempt to place us in the mind of an imaginary young child, waiting impatiently in his/her bedroom, on Xmas Eve.
(c) Anthony Bellaleigh (16th December 2011).
Image: © Eric Limon | Dreamstime.com