Boxing Day

Her boys play outside with an old Nerf ball. As she leads him to the broken furnace, he sees her tiny house has a cross, but no gifts, no tree. He sympathizes; he’s had a rough year, too.

She sees him glancing and is grateful they have nothing to steal.

A note on the story

Boxing Day was my third publication with 50-Word Stories, after “Changeable Natures” and “Lawn Cares.”

Although I tend to think of myself as a short story and novelette writer, I’ve become quite fond of writing and reading these mini-tales. They’re like the haiku of fiction, which isn’t that much of a stretch as similes go: One recent debate among writers and editors on Twitter attempted to nail down the difference between micro/flash fiction and poetry, and the best anyone seemed to up with was line breaks.

For more of my publications, see my list of creative works.


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