Flash Fiction to Block my Yelling

The Broken Holidays

She didn't want it to end like this.

The door slammed in her face.

She just wanted a fun night in the cold bitter wind that pushed her tutu around and whipped her hair into her face.

The next day she would be gone, things to do, people to meet, so tonight she had to savor this time.

It would have been normal, it should have been normal, but the the holiday was delayed.

You can't delay holidays!

Yet, here they were, and the rude woman behind the wooden door, standing, watching.

So close, yet so far.

So here they stood.

And yet, even if they weren't doing anything wrong, just a tradition, the door was shut.