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Weekly Contest #69
I shivered as I crossed the threshold of my childhood home. Warm faces and glowing Christmas lights only amplified the eerie chill shuddering through my bones. I breathed in, but even my lungs rejected the plastic smiles and empty words floating through the air. Somehow, the plastic seemed to catch on the lining of my throat, and suppressed coughs manifested my not-so-hidden distaste for the place. I can’t be here. “What are we all doing out here in the foyer? Come in, quickly, before you let the cold in,” says my mother, always more concer...
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