I’m delighted to be able to post another Friday Fiction story today. I missed InMon yesterday and if I get chance I’ll catch that up later, but for now, Rochelle’s picture is below and the links to other stories are on her site. Your comments on my response are welcome, as ever.
And at the risk of sounding Scrooge-like, it’s still November, so as far as I’m concerned, the title is particularly apt. Bah, humbug!
‘Tisn’t the Season
They appeared overnight: a light frosting of lights around the eaves and gables of homes, shops and temples. In the twilight hours of dawn, walking the quiet streets to work, I marvelled at their beauty and wondered whether the City had suddenly found some unspent budget for Christmas lights in June.
The local newspapers sported their usual split, with half decrying the waste and half expounding the benefits of adding a little sparkle. But when the journalists interviewed councillors, they were met with confusion and denials. Noone knew where the lights had come from.
And then they began to fall.