A Christmas Carol

11358603756_e41dc4e2c5_b.jpg

Ebenezer Scrooge woke up suddenly. It took all the energy he could muster to sit upright. He was gasping, mouth parched, heart racing, and he was moist. This was his old feeble body’s way of perspiring. He cursed that damn recurring nightmare where he is visited by ghosts of Christmas past, present and future. How many times can he endure this horrifying vision without dying?


He scampered out of bed and to the window. He shouted out, “What day is it?”

A woman exclaimed, “Why, it’s Christmas.” She looked up and saw Scrooge. She threw up in her mouth, disgusted by the sight of him.

Scrooge smiled and danced a jig. His bones and joints creaked louder than the floor. The loose nightgown rustled on his dry ancient skin. In the sunlight, his decrepit face looked like it was carved on a wet piece of wood. “It’s not too late. It’s not too late!”

Scrooge folded his hands in prayer. A bright light radiated the top of his sleeping capped head. “Dear God, please bless Tiny Tim. Amen.” Within moments, he was fast asleep like a baby log.

Carve

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s