This week’s photo prompt is provided by Maria with Doodles and Scribbles. Thank you Maria!


In the town at the edge of nowhere, hope was not allowed to show itself. Christmas, no longer celebrated, was only a memory housed in the brain of the oldest resident. If you asked, he would stroke his long beard and weave fantastic stories of long ago December festivities. Decorated trees. Yule logs. Presents in shiny papers. His eyes aglow he would tell about a baby boy. About how light came to the world. In a scratchy voice he would sing about a silent night.

Though some scoffed at his stories, you would be wise to listen. His face solemn, he would recount how some in authority made it a crime to participate in the antiquated practice. But traditions long forgotten, lived in the heart of the old man. And as proof he would walk with you into the wintry night, point to the night sky and show you the light.

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18 thoughts on “Proof

  1. Great story. I love the descriptions and the mood that you set. Let’s hope that it will never happen though – a world without traditions and scratchy voices singing Christmas carols.

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