Flashing Through The Snow

The snow that's falling today is plentiful, but my thoughts of what to share with you today are not. 

It could be the multitude of changes in my life over the past few months, or it could be the recent losses I've endured that lead me to this piece of flash fiction I wrote about 8 years ago. 

 A few years ago I spent a lot of time writing flash fiction. These are tiny bites of stories, or ones that are complete with a limited number of words. You might find these types of stories in a magazine, or on a blog. They're often a challenge to write, but really work those writing muscles and make you realize how important each word is when you have to be concise to a very limited number of words.

So for those who have tired of the snow and cold of winter, I offer this piece of flash fiction.

Winter Solstice 

    "But the doctor said—"

            “I don’t care!” Marge pushed past John into their son’s room.

            “Hey sweetheart.” She smiled while kneeling to stroke David’s cheek. “Want to meet Mr. Winter in person?”

            David struggled to focus on her. “Really?” 

            “Yes.” Marge wrapped the comforter around him and scooped him up.  Walking over to the window, she nudged the wheelchair out of the way. “Look, he’s been waiting to meet you.”  

            David squinted at the glistening snowman.  

            John held the back door open as Marge exited with the bundle barely resembling their rambunctious six year old.

            She cradled her son while easing into the chair placed by the snowman. While pulling the comforter from David’s face, a breeze ruffled his sparse, blonde hair. “How does he look?” 

             David studied his frosty friend. “He’s missing something.”  

            “I know,” Marge pulled a plastic pipe from her pocket.  “You always put it in.”

            David smiled and she helped him grip the pipe.  Leaning forward, they pushed it into the snowy smile.  

            David’s smiled faded. “He won’t be here much longer.”

            Marge hugged her son. “You’re wrong. He’s part of everything.” She kissed David’s forehead. “The rain that makes the flowers grow, or creates a rainbow,” she traced her finger down his cheek. “Or cooling the Fall winds until the snow returns.”  

            “So…he’s not really gone.”     

            “No,” Marge looked into eyes that matched her own and pressed David’s hand to her heart as her tears fell and absorbed into the snow. “He’s always here.”

Do You Ever Write, or Read, Flash Fiction?

Author Bio: Maureen Bonatch grew up in small town Pennsylvania and her love of the four seasons—hockey, biking, sweat pants and hibernation—keeps her there. While immersed in writing or reading paranormal romance and fantasy, she survives on caffeine, wine, music, and laughter. A feisty Shih Tzu keeps her in line. Find Maureen on her website, Facebook& Twitter

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Lights by Diane Burton

Throughout the year, we use candles as part of our celebrations. Candles on a birthday cake, candles inside a jack-o-lantern. This time of year we see many more uses of light in celebrations.

Winter Solstice, a celebration of Light and the return of the Sun, has been celebrated for thousands of years. It was known in old Europe as Yule. People burned the Yule log to celebrate. 

Hanukkah, the Festival of Lights, commemorates the rededication of the Temple in Jerusalem and is a remembrance of the miracle when there was only enough oil for the Temple lamp for one day. Instead, it lasted eight days. Starting last night (December 12^th), a candle in the menorah is lit each day until the celebration ends on December 20^th.

Kwanzaa, a modern holiday celebrating African-American heritage, uses a special candle holder called a kinara that holds seven candles, each color has a special meaning. Kwanzaa lasts from December 26 to January 1st. Each day a candle is lit.

Christmas is celebrated many days before the actual day, December 25th. Lights play a large part in Christian celebrations because of the belief that Jesus is the Light of the World. Lights on trees, on houses, around the inside of houses. In a time without electricity lit candles were used instead. Lights on the Christmas tree came with the German immigrants and became a tradition. Candles pinned or glued with wax to the branches of a dead evergreen? I can just imagine the danger of fire.

Today is St. Lucia’s feast day in Sweden. Legend goes that while secretly bringing food to persecuted Christians (around 300 AD) she wore candles in a wreath on her head to keep her hands free. 

A tradition popular in the American southwest that has spread around the country are luminarias, candles in a bag with sand that outlines the path to one’s house. Christmas traditions in other countries can be found here.

Some people really get into decorating with lights—to the point of competition. Others like to coordinate the lights with music. All fun unless they go overboard. Imagine their electric bill. As entertaining as they are, I’m not so sure I’d want to live next door.

There is something, though, about lights that bring joy and happiness. Maybe because light dispels the gloom and early darkness at this time of year, when daylight is shorter, and reminds us that spring isn’t too far off.

When I asked my cover designer to incorporate a candle in the cover for my latest release, Romance Rekindled, she did a great job.

Blurb:

Abby Ten Eyck likes her life the way it is. She runs a successful business, has a well-adjusted teenage daughter, and has managed to keep men at bay since her divorce fifteen years ago. Just before Christmas, she’s hit with change. Her mother decides to sell the family home. Then she’s arrested, with an unknown man. Could this new man in her mother’s life create more upheaval? Or could his handsome son be just what Abby needs to revive her dormant feelings?

Sam Watson embraces transition from frenetic Wall Street to a small Michigan resort town. His health is worth moving close to his dad who seems over the moon in love. But it’s the daughter of his father’s girlfriend who fascinates him. Abby Ten Eyck reminds him of his driven self. He must help her slow down before she burns out. Like he did.

Amazon  http://a.co/jlmHYD2

Amazon UK  http://amzn.eu/12TqpEM

iBooks:  https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/romance-rekindled/id1321141515?mt=11

Kobo:  https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/romance-rekindled-4

Smashwords  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/764369

Shake Up the Holidays—and the New Year by Guest Sorchia DuBois

Shake Up the Holidays—and the New Year

In the Northern Hemisphere, we celebrate a variety of winter holidays from November to February by observing traditions dating to the Middle Ages and earlier. You can trace many Winter celebrations all the way back to the Roman festival of Saturnalia as long ago as 600 BC. And you can bet the Romans got it from somewhere before that.

The idea was to celebrate the return of the Sun. The Winter Solstice can occur anytime between  December 21-23. Leading up to the Solstice, you party like there’s no tomorrow, because if the sun doesn’t come back, there won’t be. After the Solstice you party because you’ve been given a one-year reprieve from a slow death by cold and hunger.  Even in these so-called modern times, I am immensely relieved when the Solstice goes off without a hitch.

And consider how much better the Winter celebrations became back in those dark, dark days when humans discovered everything from juniper berries to potatoes to cabbage to grapes can be fermented and bottled. Then came distillation and––bang!––the party livened up even more. But tracing the positive correlation between winter celebrations and the evolution of bottled spirits would be an entirely different post.

What I want to talk about are the ingrained traditions that go along with this time of year—traditions of immense antiquity tied to the uncertainty of survival in long ago times. Traditions so ingrained that we do them automatically—whether we want to or not.

We gather with family, we decorate the house, and we drink an excessive amount of eggnog (or maybe just straight nog.)  This is all well and good. My point is that we may fall into habits that don’t serve us as well as they once did.

Personally, I’ve done Christmas trees. I’ve done caroling and Christmas parades and turkey with all the trimmings. Some of it was great and some of it was not. Most of it I did because it was expected which isn’t a bad thing, but there comes a time when you need to tweak the expected.

Einstein said the definition of madness is to do the same thing over and over and expect different results. Well, I’m not totally satisfied with the results of all the traditions I’ve observed in the last mumblety-something years.

My advice is to step off the beaten holiday path—no matter what holiday you celebrate. Create your own tradition and add it to the things you truly love to do. Savor the warmth and love of this season, but add something unique to the party—something only you can pull off. Put your stamp on the holidays and build vibrant memories that last as long as the ancient celebration of Saturnalia.

From this Saturnalia forward, I will be returning to things I love but have ignored. I’ll be decreasing the clutter––emotionally, physically, spiritually—and looking for opportunities to go rogue. Is this the first sign of what my children refer to as my “inevitable slide into insanity?”

Probably. But one woman’s insanity is another’s chocolate bon bon with a wine chaser.

Visit me at www.SorchiaDuBois to see how my year of living divergently works out. Happy Holidays to one and all and may your New Year be filled with joy and love and charmingly peculiar adventures.

Speaking of peculiar adventures (see how smoothly I did that?), Zoraida Grey and the Family Stones is the beginning of an adventure that takes Zoraida from her cozy, comfy home in Arkansas to Scotland, the Caribbean, the Yucatan jungle, and back again as she battles crazy sorcerors, a voodoo priestess, and the evil influence of a powerful crystal. She must choose the path for herself, but two beguiling Scottish witches tempt her in different directions.

How far is she willing to go to protect the ones she loves? Can she find the strength to take charge of her own life?

Here’s a tiny excerpt for starters:

“I think you are a throwback.” Shea’s eyes are every bit as hypnotic as Michael’s. His peculiar blue aura glows steady and bright. He leans closer, lowering his voice, speaking as much inside my head as out. “I think she saw the light of the old ones on your brow. I think she trained you day by day, teaching you the old magic, giving you as much of her soul as she could part with and still live. I think she wove spells into your hair and fed you with lotus blossoms.” My heart thumps so loudly I’m sure he can hear it. “I think you are her last hope.”

“Last hope for what?” Air seems in short supply, seeping into my lungs by the teaspoonful.

“Strangely, you may be Michael’s last hope as well. And mine.”

Grab a copy as a gift or indulge yourself. Zoraida’s adventure continues with Zoraida Grey and the Voodoo Queen  and Zoraida Grey and the Pictish Runes in 2017.

Buy Links:

Amazon: http://bit.ly/ZGandtheFS_AMZN

Wild Rose Press: http://bit.ly/ZGandFSWR

Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/ZGandFSBN

Kobo: http://bit.ly/ZGandFSKOBO

About the Author:

Sorchia Dubois lives in the piney forest of the Missouri Ozarks with eight cats. She edits technical writing and fiction part time, but she spends at least five hours per day tapping out paranormal romance, Gothic murder, and Scottish thrillers.

A proud member of the Ross clan, Sorchia incorporates all things Celtic (especially Scottish) into her works. She can often be found swilling Scotch at Scottish festivals.  

Follow Sorchia on social media.

Blog/Website:  www.SorchiaDubois.com

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/SorchiaDubois

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Facebook:  www.facebook.com/SorchiaD

Amazon author page:  http://www.amazon.com/SorchiaDuBois/e/B00B60NOUQ/

Goodreads  author page:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6879978.Sorchia_DuBois

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