God Julafton (Merry Christmas Eve), the following is my #fridayflash and entry in Loren Eaton's Advent Ghosts series. Check his blog for more.
Drafts remind Corbin to feed the cabin's fireplace. The tinderbox yawns revealing an emptiness marred by scraps of bark. Corbin shrugs remembering the owner's warning to stay inside after dark. Old man's lived in these woods too long. Might freeze if I listen to his crazy talk.
Light slivers around the door. Corbin hesitates. Through the windows, a pack of pines, festooned with garish lights, huddle. He won't wire the cabin but wastes it on the trees? Crazy!
He pushes through the crackling snow. A twig pops. A gnarled branch hangs over him as he falls into the red-tinged snow.