Well, what d'ya know? A regular, old-fashioned Saturday Centus from The Matlock...with nary a trick in sight! Kinda refreshing, right? 100 words plus the prompt to tell the best story a Centusian can muster. (This week, I threw in a bit of Christmas for good measure.) The prompt, as always, is in red.
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The Eye of the Beholder
©2011 Susan Noyes Anderson
“I don’t like Christmas.”
Julie started at the sudden sound, midway through the flight. Her seatmate's tone was confessional, a distinction she recognized immediately. Airplanes and salons had a lot in common.
Still, she’d have felt more comfortable with scissors in hand. Mentally brandishing a pair, she took the bait. “How so?”
“The shopping. I hate shopping. And Christmas muzak. And expectations. To say nothing of decorating. Putting up lights is my personal definition of purgatory.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” she said softly, remembering the twinkling trees and handmade gifts of her childhood, the fire casting warm shadows on every face in the family circle.
19 comments:
So very good. you, indeed, are a master at this Centus. I struggle with it but I keep trying. :))
Excellent Sue and I so agree with the message of this post...harking back to childhood memories can bring the wonder, joy and beauty back into our Christmas celebrations!
Sue, this is a very sensitive piece. When you read my Centus, you will know why.
Sue I needed this post today.
Thank you dear friend for taking the time to write this.
Lovely and awesome as always
Love
Maggie
Do you ever take any of these and write a novel?
I'm always hooked and want to know more!
Beautiful , this year I have avoided crowds and shopping centres thanks to Amazon and my sewing machine
no it does not have to be that way...it is a hard river to ford against but no it does not...
Very nice!
If we could all just get back to the simpler times. Loved this!~Ames
I immediately thought of my childhood and how simple it seems to my mind now. I'm sure Mom would say it was just as hectic for her then! The story had such a peaceful feeling at the end. I need someone to tell me to calm down, and it doesn't have to be this way..thanks for doing that!
Good story. I do believe that more and more, everyone is rushsing around going half crazy with whatever they think is the most important thing about Christmas. I have to admit there are times that I am glad that Christmas only comes once a year. That's because I overdo on my thing, which is baking. I keep saying next year it will be different, but it always is the same. I do believe though that even though a person is super busy, one can take time out to think about why we celebrate this holiday anyway. I find my rest periods very calming, especially if I stop and think about how blessed we are that our Heavenly Father sent HIS SON to this earth to live and die for us. I also reflect on how many blessings we have been given during the year, and always they are much more than the problems that we might experience. So, as busy as we all are, if our thoughts are leaning toward disliking this time of year, you are so right, "It doesn't have to be that way.
Wow. Love her attitude. The hairdressers not the client.
Beautiful.
I must agree.
It seems like things were simpler when we didn't have all the extra communication/cellphone/texting interruptions in our lives.
really well done, Sue. I was totally flummoxed most of the day by this week's SC...
When one brings in the perspective of family, everything changes for the good.
I loved it. I have to tell you though, now I want to pull out a Christmas book to read :) Inspiring!
Blessings,
Marcia
I'm so glad the other side was put so well in this debate. You have captured the 'proper' interpretation!
wonderfully written as always! and the message of this post is so important
Awww, darn! Not even 8 am and already a tear in my eye.
And not just from the massive 'to do' list I have on my docket today!
I took some of my 'magical' immune defense support and I think it knocked the strep back! Hooray me!
This was wonderful Sue!
You write right into my heart.
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