Tag Archives: Christmas Eve
Three winters’ tales, of darkness and light
Part 3: And now, a time for dancing The small market town awakens to Christmas Eve. The longest night may have passed, but still the morning is late in arriving. Snow has fallen overnight, coating the footpaths with thin white … Continue reading
Posted in Fiction, probably
Tagged Christmas Eve, dancers, fairies, forest folk, lights, loneliness, mist, pine trees, ribbons, snow
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Eleven footballs* and a five letter word – a thought for the day
It’s dark. Curtains are drawn. If the outdoor light goes on when we lob the footballs over the fence the people inside won’t notice. (I retract that ‘we’. The man of this house will lob them over. Throwing balls was … Continue reading
