New Year's Flash Fiction by Teri Wilson

Snowflakes swirled and danced against the windowpanes of Melody Swan’s tiny bungalow as the clock crept closer and closer to midnight. Another New Year’s Eve in Aurora, Alaska. Another night alone.

With her two big rescue dogs for company, Melody usually didn’t feel so alone. But there was just something about New Year’s Eve…

She yawned and wiggled her toes beneath the warm fur and steady heartbeat of Thor’s sleeping bulk. The dog had the right idea. She should just go to bed. Why was she forcing herself to stay awake until midnight?

But just as she reached to shut down her laptop, the sound of an instant message alarm rang.

Litter of Husky puppies in need of transport tonight. Interested?   RJ

Melody’s heart gave a little flutter at the sight of RJ’s initials. She really needed to get over her crush. He clearly wasn’t interested in her. He hardly ever said a word to her on the days she volunteered at the animal shelter.

But he was the shelter manager. And he was asking her for a special favor. Never mind that saying yes would be like admitting she was the only person in Alaska home alone on New Year’s Eve, she typed a quick be there in a few and headed to the shelter.

RJ greeted her at the door with what looked suspiciously like a full-grown dog, not a litter of Huskies, but Melody loaded up the dog in her van without asking any questions. Why was it so difficult to speak around him? Her words always seemed to stick in her throat.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced inside the van. “Shall we go?”

“You’re coming too?”

“I thought you might like some company.” His words hung between them in a cloud of vapor in the cold Alaskan air.

“Okay.”

It wasn’t until she reached the end of the drive that Melody thought to ask where they were headed. “Which direction?”

“Either one is fine with me,” he said quietly.

She blinked into the darkness. “But where are we going?”

“Anywhere.”

“I don’t understand.”

RJ’s gaze turned tender. “Another volunteer showed up unexpectedly and picked up the rescue puppies before you arrived. I didn’t want to turn you away because I liked the idea of spending New Year’s Eve with you.”

The dog in the backseat yipped.

“Then who’s that?” Melody asked.

“He’s mine.” RJ shrugged, and his lips curved into a sheepish grin.

She smiled back at him. “Anywhere is just fine with me.”

He reached for her hand, and beneath a starry sky, together they drove toward a new future. A New Year.

Christmas Flash Fiction Story by Naomi Rawlings

Snow swirled from the sky, a never ending deluge of hard white flakes. Isaac Caine pulled his wide brimmed hat lower on his forehead and hunched his shoulders against the violent wind whipping over Lake Superior. The small town of Munising Michigan sat quiet and shut up against the storm that had already dropped a foot of snow. On this bitter-cold day after Christmas, not one horse-drawn sleigh or lonely traveler braved the blizzard.

No one, that was, except for him.

Isaac stared down his gloved hands and the plate they clenched, the last of the Christmas meals left to deliver. He would have delivered it yesterday, had the storm not come up. And fool that he was, he'd hoped the snow would subside by morning. But morning had arrived, the world was still a blinding mess of pelting flakes, and the Widow Atkins still hadn't received her Christmas meal.

Isaac trudged onward through the snow, nearly as high as his boots by now, and inched his way closer to the log cabin on the outside of town. What had he been thinking, saving this meal for last? He should have delivered it first so that the widow could have had a full, hot meal Christmas day. But he hadn't planned on the storm appearing before he finished his other deliveries, had hoped instead to stay a while and pass the long winter night with the elderly widow, just two people, both far away from family, sharing the holiday with one another.

Now thanks to his plans, the widow had gone without a Christmas meal, and he'd likely find himself snowed in at her cabin for the rest of the day.

The old house appeared before him, a mere shadow of age-darkened wood in the pine forest surrounding the little cabin. He stomped up to the door, then knocked.

The door swung open.

"Hello?" A small brunette stood in the doorway, a shawl draped about her shoulders and her plaited hair trailing down over her chest. "Can I help you?"

"I-I . . ." Words deserted him as he stared at the beautiful little woman. Where had she come from? And who was she?

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm here for the Widow Atkins. I brought a Christmas meal from the church." He thrust the plate out awkwardly, as though it might convince the strange woman to let him in.

A soft smile split her lips, and she reached for the plate. "Of course. Grandmother's just inside. I'm Gracie Burrows here from Chicago, and I'll be staying for a while. Why don't you come in and warm yourself a bit?"

With a smile both on his face and in his heart, Isaac stepped inside from the cold.