Breeds
“The larger, battery-operated flashlights she’d bought only a few months ago lay in the kitchen drawer, as backup only. The candles took her back to the days when she was only a girl growing up in this once strong outport community, and the memories of her and her sisters crowding around the wood stove in the kitchen, listening to stories told by her grandmother. Flossie periodically glanced out at the stormy dark, in the direction of the lower road where, long years ago, parades would march by ...on Christmas Day.
When the wind dropped, the pop and sizzle of wet junks of split wood thrown into the stove distracted her. She glanced at the candles: snowmen with their heads and shoulders long melted off. They’d been untouched leftovers from Christmas. At first, she was hesitant about lighting the top hat wicks since their portly shapes simply radiated a festive jolliness. When she did apply fire to their noggins, the snowmen’s smiles stayed firmly in place, as if swearing it didn’t bother them in the least.MoreLess
When the wind dropped, the pop and sizzle of wet junks of split wood thrown into the stove distracted her. She glanced at the candles: snowmen with their heads and shoulders long melted off. They’d been untouched leftovers from Christmas. At first, she was hesitant about lighting the top hat wicks since their portly shapes simply radiated a festive jolliness. When she did apply fire to their noggins, the snowmen’s smiles stayed firmly in place, as if swearing it didn’t bother them in the least.MoreLess
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