by Laura Peck

Here’s an excerpt, as promised a few Creativities ago, of the Christmas novel.

Marcus reluctantly went under his cover. His large bed felt too large, too lonely, lifeless. Like him. The clock kept showing 3:36 for what seemed like an eternity. But no. 3:37 came. And stayed. Still. Until 3:38 took over. And stayed. He forced his eyes shut. 

The white backyard came to his mind. The chapel dressed up for Christmas, too. How proud he was to have honored his dear Liz’s deepest wish. It took him thirteen months to build the shrine. The sacred place. Their secret longing. His heavy heart kept him going. His teary eyes kept him praying. Nothing would stop him. Nothing did. Each Christmas, since, he would not miss the tradition. He would hang the Christmas wreath and Christmas lights. Pray more. Until his eyes, his heart saw the light coming from the north, the east, and the south. There were two one-person wooden seats, he always chose the right one. The intimate space was full of the presence of God, the Holy Spirit and Liz’s soul, he was certain of that. Until he was not.

The pets were his only loyal companions, now.

Don’t miss the next Write Thing (21 Feb2024) to know more about Marcus. Merry Christmas!

Pssst, you. Yeah you! Share your creative activities too! The 2024 calendar is wide open!! Send JPG image(s) to cagac.ca@gmail.com with a few words telling us what moved you to produce . . . something! Share how creativity affects your life. Please include title & media for art images.