Sometimes memories are best forgotten.
The parcel sat on her table, next to the previous day’s one. Small, wrapped in faded paper, she hadn’t had the heart to unwrap them. She remembered clearly the last time someone had given her any kind of parcel: it had been at work, and White Elephant gifts didn’t exactly fall into the same category. Plus, that had been years ago, long before she’d moved.
Heat curled around her shoulders, warding off the chill that still seemed to seep into her toes. The wind battled against her windows and the teacup in her hands only seemed to warm her palms.
“Another foot of snow is expected tonight, promising a white Christmas!” The weatherman was far too cheerful about this prospect. The urge to stick her tongue out at the television set was only curbed by the distraction of her oven timer sounding.
While the weather might have been frightful, her cookies smelled divine. Not that she wanted to eat all two dozen, but seeing as she knew no one in town, she figured it was a small sacrifice for some holiday cheer.
Tea, milk, Love, Actually streaming, and for a few minutes, she forgot about the storm. About the lack of any friendly faces at her new job (walking in on a business where everyone had been together for at least a decade didn’t bode well for the new person). Or about the small parcels on her table.
She really should open them. See what on earth someone had left, so carefully, on her doorstep. But, looking over at them, they made her smile. Maybe tomorrow. At least then there’d be something to look forward to.
Curious? Want to know what's in the packages? Go to the main blog to read the rest!