Biographical Flash Fiction posted May 5, 2019

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A sorry time to be sick.

Measles Christmas

by Gail Denham

Biggest party ever. Our farm house near Culver vibrated with laughter, singing, good cheer.

Upstairs, lying measles-specked in dark loneliness, Christmas seemed far away, non-existent to a six year-old sickie. Head under covers, I blocked out the jollification, drew into kid thoughts of gloom and self-pity.

Slowly, my bed cover was fluffed up under my chin. Uncle Tally had climbed upstairs and now sat beside my bed. He held out a plate of red and green, tree-shaped cookies.
They looked yummy.

Then he began to give me hints of possible gifts that might wait for me under the tree, even if I was spotted all over. His hints lifted me into sugar plum fantasies, freedom from fever and skin bumps. That was the Christmas he and my folks built me a two-story doll house from two big green storage boxes, with a stairway, doorways through plywood walls. It was wonderful.

Uncle Tally and I hummed along with the carols. I nibbled a cookie and dreamed of tomorrow, Christmas Day, deciding I would stay awake and listen for Santa.

Through the eyes of a child writing prompt entry
Writing Prompt
Write a short story (100-500 words). The story must include a child's perspective of an object or situation. The story may be told from the viewpoint of the child, or an adult.

This was published once by Springfield Writer's Guild, 2014. I sure felt sorry for myself that year - to be lying sick while everyone was having a party. But I did listen for Santa, and did think of Jesus coming as a baby. Thanks to avmurray for a good picture.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Artwork by avmurray at

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