We wish you all prosperity, joy, and success this new year. From everyone at A Slice of Orange.
Twig stood silent in the silver light of the full moon, listening to the rustle of mice or maybe voles in the dried grasses and brown leaves around her. No snow yet, but with the crystal clarity of the December night sky slowly being consumed by the advancing clouds, it was likely by morning.
Dipping into the deep shadows of the trees, she walked quickly back to the cabin. The stack of wood on the porch should be enough to last through the storm.
In the smaller of the two bedrooms, Kayla lay asleep, snoring softly. Twig closed the door to the room and brought in more wood from the porch for the fire.
It was nearly midnight, and Charlie had yet to show up. Just like him, to promise and not deliver.
Twig decided to wait up in case he texted that he was lost. From the cabinet near the kitchen, she took out twine, cloth ribbon and glue. She’d make a köknar, for the season, even if just for their short stay. Her grandmother had taught her how when she was nine, and Twig had made one every year since then. One day she would show Kayla how to make her own.
She set her supplies on the coffee table and sat cross-legged on the rag rug to begin her work. The bough of balsam fir she’d cut in the afternoon wasn’t exactly the right shape, but Grandma Pati said any shape would work if you looked at it from the right perspective. That was true for many things in life, Twig knew. Like her own situation.
Likewise, the story of the köknar could be appreciated from different angles, depending on the weaver of the tale. It was a talisman of good luck. Or it represented winter, with the needles and twine standing in for ice and the thread of family and friendship. Or the red cloth ribbon spoke of the new buds of spring, still months away. The version Twig preferred was that the köknar whispered an alluring call to the sun, inviting it to stay aloft a few minutes longer each day.
By the time she heard Charlie’s SUV outside, she had finished the form. When she opened the cabin door to welcome him, the clearing was covered in fresh snow, the flakes still falling thickly. She hung her creation on the nail she’d driven in last year, their first year in that place, free finally from a past that was better forgotten.
Charlie slipped a strap over his shoulder and grabbed the handle of another suitcase. The falling snow turned his head white and speckled his beard.
“You’re here,” she said. Her shoulders relaxed. The weekend would be good after all.
“The interstate’s a mess,” he said, reaching the porch and setting down his bags. “No cell service. I was afraid I’d have to pull off and spend the night and then come the rest of the way tomorrow. Kayla’s asleep?”
She nodded. His embrace pulled her tight and she felt him shiver slightly. “You’re cold. Get inside. I’ve kept the fire up, knowing you’d show up soon.”
He paused at the doorway, staring at the köknar. “You made one.” His voice held wonder, and Twig felt her eyes smart. He’d watched her fashion one last winter, asking questions, holding a knot in place while she glued.
“I did. Just this evening.”
Charlie picked up his bags and smiled at her. “Then we’re safe.”
As she shut the door after him, Twig briefly touched the woven bough. “Do your best,” she whispered.
Dianna is a contributing author in the last three anthologies from The Bethlehem Writers Group, An Element of Mystery: Sweet, Funny and Strange Tales of Intrigue, Fur, Feathers, and Scales, Sweet, Funny and Strange Animal Tales and Untethered, Sweet, Funny & Strange Tales of the Paranormal. She has also contributed stories for the Bethlehem Writers Roundtable ezine, including “In the Delivery.”
Born and raised in the Midwest, Dianna has also lived in three other quadrants of the U.S. She writes short stories and poetry, and is working on a full-length novel about a young woman in search of her long-lost brother.
She is a member of Sisters in Crime, Horror Writers Association, The American Medical Writers Association, and The Bethlehem Writers Group, LLC.
Dianna also has a regular column here on A Slice of Orange, titled Quill and Moss, in which she frequently includes short fiction.
Below, you can also listen to Dianna read her short story, “Cold Front” from the GLVWG Writes Stuff anthology.
Christmas and Hanukkah have passed, and I hope your celebrations were happy. Now is the usual time to start thinking about resolutions for the New Year.
I haven’t made any, and don’t intend to. Last year I decided my only resolution would be to take baby steps into the future. I think that’s probably one of the few resolutions I’ve ever kept!
What I need, I suppose, is motivation!!! With that in mind, here are some words of wisdom from famous authors of the past:
When you’re as old as I am, it’s always nice to hear that it’s never too late. But actually, I found this bit of advice more in tune with the author and the upcoming holiday:
“Too much of anything is bad, but too much Champagne is just right.” —F. Scott Fitzgerald
What’s your New Year’s resolution? Share it in the comments below.
You can find more suggestions for your New Year’s resolution prep at Parade.com.
Image credits: Depositphotos.com
your breath on my cheek,
as I hold you close to me,
silken infancy
it was the breeze, or
maybe the brush of your touch,
long lost, yet with me
father holds my hand
between life and death, an ache
forged in memory
©Neetu Malik
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Dan Rodin has once again transcended time...
More info →Practical and entertaining advice about how to create a fulfilling retirement.
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