I decorated again this year, went all out, like every year. The house was beautiful, my sister told me. I knew it. The banisters were wrapped in thick garlands and crinkled velvet ribbons. The front porch was lined with colored lights. Our neighbors disapproved of colored lights. White lights looked more formal, more refined. I liked the colored lights. They reminded me of children and hot chocolate and peppermint canes.

            There was a little gingerbread house on the front lawn, the size of a doghouse, and a large, smiling Frosty, both strung with the red and green and blue bulbs. Three deer grazed stoically by the front walk. They were the only white-lighted things in our yard. Who ever heard of multicolored deer?

            My husband worked late, four days before Christmas Eve. The children had finished their last day of school. Jackson was out, Dani had gone home with a friend, and Lauren played quietly with her little brother. I sipped hot chocolate as I made dinner. The phone rang – Simon was on his way home. I sighed heavily and looked out the window. The deer stood there, flimsy and stupid. Lauren and Andrew were fighting upstairs.

            I walked outside without my jacket. The cement walk was so cold it hurt my bare feet. The grass, too. Giggling childishly, I set one deer on top of another, and angled the third as if it watched silently and intensely. I made the deer hump.

            Garlic bread was simmering fragrantly in the oven by the time Simon arrived. I watched him from the window. He frowned when he saw the deer, set down his briefcase and straightened them. Like a good husband. Like a good father and protector of the home. When he came into the kitchen I kissed him, like a good wife.

            “Honey, some hoodlum’s been messing with the deer.”

            “Yes, dear.” I absently took another sip from my chipped mug. The timer chimed and I took the bread out of the oven.

            “Probably the Wilson boy.” Simon watched me as he spoke and helped me finish setting the table. “I’ll call the kids down for dinner.” 

Author guidance for This story

More microfiction from my creative writing class.

Surprise.

In this case, we were to practice the objective correlative. That is, showing emotion (rather than describing it) using an exterior object.

Our prompt: "I made deer hump" accompanied by a picture of two lighted white Christmas deer stacked on top of one another in a very crude position.

updated Feb 2 '11 by Lyre