A Baker's Dozen of Christmas What-Ifs

Rose Bud Guy

The Twelve Prompts of Christmas - Prompt #10

You are going to start your 500-word (or thereabouts) piece of writing with this prompt:

"They say that truth is stranger than fiction."

And you're going to end your piece with:

"...and just like the snowstorm outside, I never saw it coming."

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They say truth is stranger than fiction. Boy, can I attest to that!

It was my senior year in high school. I had been dancing with the Boston Ballet Company for two years while keeping up my grades.

Every evening, I had a long trek back to the family home in Bedford. This meant finishing my day of grueling rehearsals with a grueling commute through Cambridge, Arlington, and Lexington, to Bedford.

It was just a few days before Christmas. The next day, rehearsals would begin in the theatre and school would be out. But today, I was loaded down with all the school books I would need over the Christmas vacation plus my dance bag filled to the brim with tights, toe shoes, and all the rest.

I hadn't finished my Christmas shopping yet, so even though it was starting to snow, I got off in the shopping district and headed to Filene's. Eventually I found a perfect "mom-ish" silk designer scarf on the "last chance" table. When I emerged, there was a startling amount of snow coming down very fast.

At Park Street, the red line train came immediately. At Harvard Square, I wasn't as lucky. I had to stand on the bus.

Once on board, I dropped my bags gracelessly at my feet: dance bag, book bag, shopping bag, and purse. Grasping the standee loop, I pulled out the book I had chosen for my senior English project. Even with the jostling bus and the weight of the book, I was riveted. Eventually, a seat opened up in front of me so I plopped down and continued reading.

At Arlington Heights, I grabbed my bags and rushed for the Bedford bus, which was already boarding. By now the snow was accumulating in serious drifts and still whirling, nearly blocking the driver's view. Where had this storm come from? The bus crawled along, making the ride nearly twice as long as usual.

When I got home, I was just starting my dinner when the phone rang.

"Deb! It's for you!"

"Hello?"

"Hi. Are you Debby Bryan of 55 Pine Hill Road?" It was a man.. but who?

"Yes? Who is this?" I was courteous, but not too friendly.

"Uh, you don't know me, but, did you lose your purse on the bus tonight?"

"Oh, my gosh! I might have! Wait one sec!" I ran to my room and rummaged through my pile of bags. Sure enough—no purse.

"Yes! Thanks for waiting! I did lose my purse. Did you find it?"

The man chuckled. "Yes. I can swing by tonight to deliver it, if you would like."

"Yes! Oh, thank you so much! Do you need my address? Oh, wait, you already have my address."

He chuckled again. "Yes, 55 Pine Hill. It may take me a little while. The snow has started really coming down. See you soon."

"Who was that?"

"Mom, you won't believe it. I forgot my purse on the bus, and someone is coming to bring it to me. Do people even do that anymore? I thought that kind of honesty went out with Abe Lincoln!"