By Christina Taylor
“Where are you going?”
Sam stalks me as I leave the office party, leering lasciviously. Regret at the kiss pools in my heart; I thought of you the entire time.
“I just need some air.”
In search of a replay, he lurches forwards. Kicking his shins, I make my escape.
The thick church walls cocoon me against Christmas joviality. From my coat pocket, I remove the plastic reindeer I stole from the Christmas cake. With a whispered prayer, I place the toy on the altar.
“Happy Christmas, Jack.”
The greeting stings my heart.
I pull my coat tight, leaving you there.
These sentences are so thoughtfully crafted. Every details is evocative and reveals a great amount of information without surrendering all the answers. Well done. I enjoyed very much.