Flash Fiction Friday Story: The Job, A Christmas Story

I wrote another Christmas story but I haven’t been able to get it down to Flash Fiction length, under 1000 words.  So yesterday I needed an idea and just started typing ‘A dark and stormy night…’.  Amazingly the story just started flowing.  So, enjoy.

The Job, A Christmas Story

It was a dark and stormy night, snow boiling through the air, the wind whipping it in every direction.  Mike had gone to the corner store to buy some milk and bread. He felt like a failure, it’s Christmas Eve, I don’t have a gift for my wife, the last of the unemployment checks came last Friday, I don’t know what to do next.

He pulled his coat collar up around his ears, he didn’t have a hat. Ahead, he noticed a man closing up his shop, checking to make sure the door was locked. As he crossed the sidewalk to a car next to the curb, he slipped on the snowy sidewalk, falling heavily.

Mike hurried to the man, setting his plastic bag on the ground.  Kneeling on one knee beside him he asked, “You OK Mister?”

The man’s hat had come off; Mike picked it up and handed it to him, then helped him sit up.  “That was a nasty fall.  Are you alright?”

The man felt his head, “I think so, just a bump.”  He put his hat on.  Mike helped him to his feet.

“Careful now, the new snow is slippery.”

The man brushed off his pants.  “Thanks for the help.  I appreciate it.  What are you doing out on such an awful night?”

Mike picked up the bag of bread and milk.  “I went to the store; I’m on my way home.”

The man pulled his coat tighter, “walking in this weather?”

Mike switched the bag to his other hand, putting the one that had been holding the bag in his pocket.  He didn’t have gloves either. “Yeah, well, we had to sell the car. I couldn’t afford it anymore.”

He started to turn to go.

“Wait,” the man said, “I’m Harry Winston,” he nodded toward the shop, “I own this hardware store.  I’ve been looking for some help.  Are you interested?”

Mike hesitated, he wanted the work. “Mr. Winston thanks.  But I just helped you up off of the sidewalk. I don’t need any charity.”

Harry nodded.  “I appreciate that son, but really, I could use the help. I had a guy working for me just leave, joined the Army.”  He stood there, waiting for Mike’s answer.

“I’m Mike, Mike Allen.” He shuffled his feet and traded the bag to the hand that had been in his pocket.  “I won’t lie, I could use the job.”

Harry took off his glove, “Then come and see me after Christmas.  I open at seven a.m.”

Mike shook hands, face lit up.  “I’ll be there Mr. Winston.  I appreciate it.”

“Call me Harry; I’ll see you day after tomorrow, seven a.m.”

“Sure thing Harry, seven a.m.”

The End

449 Words