+++
Philip shot up in his bed a scream in his throat and
Andy sat looking at him.
“It’s Christmas!” the older boy whispered, looking
slightly shocked at his brothers’ abrupt awakening.
Philip looked around the room and then smiled, only
a dream. He shivered slightly before leaning over and
pulling a small wrapped gift from beneath his bed, passing
it to his big brother who instantly began tearing at the
paper.
“Thank you!” he cawed, looking at the action figure
he held in front of him.
He leapt out of bed and over to his brother, hugging
him, a joyous grin spread across his face but Philip did not
return the hug. He was staring too intently at the charred
black and twisted figurine which Andy had thrown onto
his bed.
Andy pulled away, his face close to Philips. “What’s
wrong?”
The smell of smoke was on his breath.
This short story appears in A.P. Gilbert’s
upcoming anthology: Driftwood from the
Specific.
A.P. Gilbert Amazon Author Page
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