The Empty Christmas Card

The Empty Christmas Card

By Damian Bloodstone (damianbloodstone@gmail.com)
Copyright © 10/28/2012  All Rights Reserved.  This cannot be copied in whole or in part without the author’s sole express permission.
 
I could smell the heavenly scent of her cinnamon buns baking.  It was Christmas morning.  Another year past; today our anniversary.  I saw a simple card at my place on the kitchen table.
I was hard to buy for, she was giving me money this time, I guessed.
The lovely belled, silver and gold, ankle bracelet I had given her that Christmas Eve sounded with each move.  The apron was all she wore, my anniversary gift.  She served the buns and sat down.
“Well, open it,” she said, her green eyes flashing while pointing to the card.  “It’s something you wanted.  I promise.”
I opened the envelope and pulled out the card.  Glancing at the front, it looked like a dark sci-fi design.  I opened the card.  It read only these words:  “I give to you something more precious than my life.  Something we both created together.”  Nothing inside.  I placed it aside.
“Notice the front?” she asked, looking disturbed.
I looked at the front, detected her name and a date of a few days ago.  It was an ultrasound.  She was pregnant.
“Santa came a few weeks early this year,” she said smiling, making the ankle bracelet sing.
 
****
 
Yes, I know it isn’t Christmas yet but this is something I wrote in a sort of challenge from someone.  It couldn’t be dark or brooding as my mood was becoming.  It actually helped lift me out of my mood some.  I hope it might a few others this Thanksgiving holiday.
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