100-word Flash Fiction
This week’s story is inspired by this photograph provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
Al trudged through the weakening storm.
Finally. The buildings materialized like ghosts of Christmases past.
He wiped sweat and snow from his forehead and cheeks.
They’d appreciate him here. All Dave did was scowl and scold him. He didn’t deserve it. He was better than his brothers. Mother knew it. Why didn’t Dave?
These people, he knew, worked hard and had fun. It would be so much better than dealing with those egotistical brothers of his.
Alvin was small. He would make a grand elf. He was tired of being a chipmunk, singing those stupid songs every year.