A Christmas Story (part 5)

While the group traveled from house to house, they asked Stacy questions about the city they had moved from three months ago, especially Marci. Mellissa noticed that when Marci spoke, a certain hush fell over the group and that most of the rude remarks began with her.

After awhile, Stacy’s laughter at the rude remarks were less forced. Mellissa looked at her older sister with wide eyes.

Stacy noticed her gaze. “What?”

“Nothing,” Mellissa murmured. After that, she shut them out. Instead, she paid attention to the decorated houses, the snow people, to everything covered in white, and imagined what it would be like if all the shapes of those buried objects came to life. She imagined a huge snowy tidal wave taking away all the carolers except Stacy, who would only be saved because Mellissa demanded that the wave spit her sister back out. “You can keep the rest, though,” she’d say. And that’s when she noticed the house at the end of Wilder Street—a tall silhouette among snow-covered trees. And, up high, glowed a pale yellow light.


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