Advent - A short story for Art Prompt Writing Contest #8

Advent

The road is dark, surrounded by the woods that divide the nearby villages. It almost seems like they absorb the darkness from the late night cloudy skies only to project it down here on the ground. The music is set on shuffle to play acoustic folk, something along the lines of Damien Rice and Glen Hansard. It’s still mostly Irish folk music with occasional fiddles and accordions joining in. It helps to keep my thoughts away from this gloomy darkness and towards the green fields of what I associate with the Irish landscape. The volume is low enough to hear the car engine though. Don’t want any more of those kinds of surprises.

These same woods are way more welcoming during the daytime. It has been what, two, maybe four years since the last time mom took me and sis out there to pick mushrooms and blueberries. That would always be one of the rare activities where I didn’t mind their company. They would both get so focused on filling up their baskets that I could actually enjoy being with them while breathing in that fresh smell of the forest in those fractured rays of sun that come down through the pines.

I am closing in on the town border, the white sign in the distance reflecting the headlights. It’s nothing more than a white little square now. I release the gas pedal, press the clutch all the way down and shift it to neutral. In the corner of my eye, I see the needle slowly descend to 85, 80, 75 km/h. I can already read the sign clearly as I am closing in - “Cawtown”. I notice something coming down on my windshield and at first I don’t quite believe it - it’s the very first snow of the season. A Christmas miracle, indeed! Considering the weather forecast had clearly stated it won’t even get close to 0. That reminds me. Summer tires. I still haven’t changed those. Anything happens, I’ll blame the weatherman.

I’m still rolling along in neutral, the all familiar left turn comes up and passes just the same. I have to make a stop, I just have to. It’s really coming down now. I will just enjoy a couple minutes of silence under these falling snowflakes in the wind. Before the dinner which will certainly bring along the good old questioning. What about my savings? Why haven’t I opened up a savings account yet? Why am I still single? Will I not grant mom her wish of witnessing the day her grandchild is born?

I’ve only walked a couple of steps away from the car when I notice a street curving along between the surrounding households. Strange. Having grown up in this town, I still manage to find a street I don’t know. Or maybe it’s just a street I have forgotten. The freshly fallen snow on the sidewalk is waiting for its first footsteps. Since no one else is around to do it, I am more than happy to oblige. It chirps calmingly under my feet. I guess it did go under 0, but I don’t feel cold at all. All the houses around emit the warmth of families gathered together around the dinner table. The Christmas decorations are there, but they are really toned down in comparison to what I remember seeing in the movies. I like it this way. All the little lights are there, but they are not overly bright. A truly silent and holy night.

It would seem I am catching up on someone. More and more footsteps appear in the snow. And yet, I am sure I passed this particular house already before. I look back and I see several sets of footprints behind me as well. Am I walking in circles? I’ve only been out here for some 10 minutes. What time is it? I try to look at my watch, but I can’t see the time in the dark. There, that lamp post seems to be brighter than the others.

A flash of blue light passes behind me. I turn around and I see that the flashing lights have stopped right around the corner, back where I parked my car. A frightening realization - what if someone crashed into my car in this unexpected snowfall? What if someone got hurt because of how carelessly I parked it? No way! I parked it by the bus stop, it wasn’t even on the road.

I turn around again and I see mom and sis running towards me. Strange, sis seems to be running in her slippers. Mom hasn’t even put on her coat. I wave at them try and to greet them, but the sound coming from my mouth feels distant, yet at the same time it remains within me. They run past me as if I wasn’t there. As if.

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This is an original piece of fiction written for Art Prompt Writing Contest hosted by @gmuxx

Feel free to check out the comments of the contest post for more entry stories, you can find some amazing reads out there: https://steemit.com/contest/@gmuxx/art-prompt-writing-contest-8

The art prompt picture provided by @sad-dad

I had help from editors of The Writers' Block while working on this story. The finished piece that you get to read here is an improvement over what the first draft was, so huge thanks to the folks from the Block! Check out their discord server in the link below if you wish to be a part of a community where people help each other improve their writing and more.