"Merry Christmas, man." He leans against his bus. The lone tree shades him.
I put my hands in my pockets. "Not Christmas."
Smoke billows out of the engine. The road stretches empty in both directions. I regret answering his call – the last road trip.
"Any day is Christmas. If you think about it."
"No."
There's a blur on the horizon, drawing near.
"I mean, we get presents every day."
I sigh, watching the car. "Like what?"
It slows, window rolling down. A spark of hope lifts me, but then a soda flings out, splattering me.
He roars with laughter as the car makes dust.
"Like that, man. Like those pranksters."
YOU ARE READING
The Eternal Return
Short StoryA collection of speculative short stories and flash fiction. A few of these are also posted on my blog and others still I wrote in creative writing classes or for flash fiction contests. Please, let me know what you think.
