The kitchen smelt like Christmas. That was the only word Paul could think of to describe the wall of air that greeted him as he slipped in the side door, hoping to surprise his family. The heat, the turkey and vegetables in the oven, the hot pork under foil, waiting to be carved. Just as they had been doing for years, it was reassuringly familiar. Through the door, he could hear the usual Christmas ruckus. His sister’s children playing with new toys, and squabbling over which truck belonged to who. The tv louder than needed for his dad to watch the midday movie. Aunts and uncles chattering. Hiding from it all, in the kitchen, his mother stood with her back to him, washing plates with more care than usual, or so it seemed.
Paul slowly closed the door behind him, trying to be as silent as possible, and tiptoed across the kitchen, slipping his arm around her shoulders and dropping a kiss on her cheek.
“Merry Christmas, mum,” Paul said as he grinned at her. Margaret jumped, as the plate she has been holding clattered into the water, splashing soapy bubbles down the front of her apron.
This little writing exercise was courtesy of the current Write4Ten prompt – Feast. Though I didn’t manage the full ten minutes due to an ill-timed ring of the doorbell, I was happy to add another 211 words to my total count. This little snippet is completely unedited, and feels a bit rusty thanks to a longer-than-planned writing hiatus. To read more about Lauren and Paul’s story, click here.
Thank you, to each and every one of you who stops by my blog for a read, who leaves comments, or tweets me, or pins my posts. This year has been an amazing one on the blog, and I am truly grateful. Here’s to a 2013 filled with craft, writing, reading and friendship. xxx