Abhorrent Apparitions – 28th Oct

Walking along the street towards the Trafford Centre she saw people. A lot of people. Some were old some were short, some were young some were tall. Some loomed gradually towards her as she wandered slowly, some seemed to appear more suddenly. All were Mancs.

It was a Saturday afternoon, the Saturday before Christmas. The writhing mass of increasingly desperate consumers was almost impenetrable. Yet penetrate them she did. Gently pushing, moving forward, always forward, slowly, like easing through a poolful of treacle. Every single body with a purpose in mind. They needed to – had to – get those presents. Grandmother, aunts, daughters, and as the clock ticked the suitability of those gifts were compromised to such a degree that anything, anything as long as it’s something, will do.

And so Christmas morning appears, and grandmother eagerly rips open the package, father calmly unfolds the envelope, Uncle Jim cheerily reaches for his brightly covered box. And she breaks into a cold sweat. By now the never stopping clock, the rising desperation, the endless queues are all forgotten. How, just how, could I have thought those awful things would be suitable?

Grimly she watches their faces as those awful abhorrent presents emerge and appear.

 * * * * * *

This is a prompted ten minute write. Today I wrote from 12:03 to 12:13. I was prompted by the words Abhorrent Apparitions.

My other stuff is over on the Dead Deer Blog


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