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Seasoned Greetings, by Sterling Warner

4/12/2020

 
Any other autumn, a thud on the roof signaled the forthcoming onslaught of derecho storms with typical wind gusts of 58 miles an hour. Yet, not even a slight breeze disturbed the night air. Moreover, it’d been weeks since people held pumpkin chunkin contests the day after all hallows eve, catapulting carved, burnt out jack-o-lanterns into vacant lots. Thus, the current resounding roof thuds made absolutely no sense.

Ten days after Thanksgiving, the entire town looked like a winter wonderland. Lights decorated almost every house in the city, some further enhanced with cheap, plastic nativity scenes or giant candy canes, Santa Clause, reindeer, and occasional elves. Still, long after Christmas lights had been turned off, providing people a visual reprieve, all too familiar thuds on random rooftops continued to assault everyone’s hearing.

A detective of sorts, I snuck out of the house to locate the source of aerial bombardment. To get a better view, I climb into my neighbor’s treehouse, got out my cell phone, and waited patiently for someone or something to film. After fighting off the ice-cold night air and the desire to cuddle in a warm feather bed, I eventually observed perpetrators of the audio annoyance.

Somehow, the Leman brothers had gotten ahold of the pumpkin chunkin catapult and were selectively tossing fruitcakes at homes whose residents had a reputation for regifting them year after year, rather than purchasing fresh, seasonal gifts for friends and loved ones. Oddly, I found their actions righteous and socially redeeming. (I hate fruitcake—as much as Lawrence Welk and his damn accordion music!). At best, fruitcakes make respectable door stops, but I still consider receiving one for the holidays a personal insult!

As I climbed down from the treehouse, I initially resolved to provide the Leman brothers with a new hit list of homes when I saw them come morning. That night, however, I began dreaming about caroling alone in the middle of a graveyard and concluded my deep sleep with a visitation from the Ghost of Christmas Mischief.

By the time I rolled out of bed, I had changed my mind. The hell with a hit list! I wanted to join the Leman brother’s crew the next evening—loading the launch bucket, pulling the wooden lever, and assailing neighborhood roofs with hard, stale, re-gifted fruitcakes.

Cheap thrills tend to be short lived. Oh, I did my part, and reveled in insulting stingy neighbors with aged fruit cake. Times change, of course, and come the New Year, so did we. Next Christmas, the Leman brothers and I intend to dress like three wise men, track December stars, and disperse fruitcake offerings at plastic nativity scenes.
Scott Rudolph
4/12/2020 08:51:59 pm

Ahh. Finally a story the fully captures my contempt for fruit cakes. Funny....Still people who give others fruit cakes should be placed in jail for the holidays!

Mary Wallace
5/12/2020 01:16:04 am

This is not the time to say that I have just cooked 22 fruitcakes.🤣 Fun story.

Sue Clayton
5/12/2020 05:32:29 am

Humorous and I'm sure your fruit cakes are delicious, Mary, and would never be catapulted onto a roof.


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    Friday Flash Fiction is primarily a site for stories of 100 words or fewer, and our authors are expected to take on that challenge if they possibly can. Most stories of under 150 words can be trimmed and we do not accept submissions of 101-150 words.


    However, in response to demand, the FFF team constructed this forum for significantly longer stories of 151-500 words. Please send submissions for these using the Submissions Page.

    Stories to the 500 word thread will be posted as soon as we can mange.

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    One little further note. Posting and publishing 500-word stories takes a little time if they need to be formatted, too.
    ​Please note that we tend to post longer flash fiction exactly as we find it – wrong spacing, everything.

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