Birches line the snow swept highway. Beyond my headlights they lurk, they leer. Bony fingers beckoning. I comply, listing to their arms.
Christmas music fills the air. The elf frolics and dances to happy applause, but she’s not happy. The men drool, and the metal pole is cold.
He had existed for thousands of years; had been a doctor, a soldier, a teacher. A better man than I. In the end, I couldn’t drive the stake.
“Go ahead,” Marcie whispered. Ben watched Sheila blush. The two women waited. “And take off the ring, Ben. I’ve been dead a long time.”
All I had to do was grab the outstretched fingers. He begged me to help. I smiled and walked slowly away. I knew she would soon forget him.
The neighbor girl isn’t eating again. She tapes quarters to her belt to tip the scale and satisfy her stern mother—she thinks of everything.