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(by Sam Maxfield 2000) © Touch Nottingham (internet magazine and What's On guide) When Alice saw that the moon was following her home, she wasn't at all surprised. It was Christmas Eve, and on a night such as this it was more surprising to Alice that all the stars and planets, and the great slow-moving clouds which sometimes hid the moon from view, wouldn't want to follow her home too. Alice Hushheart's home was a beautiful one. Tiny lights twinkled in its frosted windows, and it always smelled of fresh-baked bread. Alice's daddy lit roaring fires in the hearth, in front of which her mummy rocked, embroidering tiny silk booties for the baby in her belly. Tonight Alice ran, and although it was only five o'clock the sky had darkened. Soon Sirius, the dog star, yapping at the moon's heels would disappear, and Santa's sleigh would begin its sharp climb to circumnavigate the world. Oh, how Alice's little heart beat. Christmas Eve, and what a supper they would have, and how the stockings would hang, red wool and yellow striped, on the fire-place wall. Oh, how Alice's little heart did beat. She flung open the door with its merry wreath, and sang: "I'm home." Black and burnt was the inside room. Alice did let out such a moan. Her heart, it stopped. Started again, like a faulty watch. The room stank of cinder, of burnt, blackened things. The rocking chair was ash; her father's pipe-rack singed. And no sign of her parents. No sign at all. Alice wrung her hands, her head, her heart. Where was her mummy, her daddy, her home? The tree in the corner was a charcoal stump, the presents were gone, but on the floor she spied a note. It said: Dear Aliss, Weev gone. Hope you don't mind, but with the new baby on the way, we thought it best. We can't love you both. Merry Christmas dear. Mummy and Daddy. Did Alice cry then? Did she sit down and weep? Did Alice lose her marbles? Well, just for a bit, but Alice was a smart girl and soon she stopped, climbed to her feet and went outside. There was the moon hanging in the sky, sparkling up the snow, suspiciously large, suspiciously low. "Moon," Alice said. "I can't help but think that something is amiss. It was the way my name was spelt 'Aliss'. Now my Mummy and Daddy might leave me, but surely they wouldn't misspell. Something's truly wrong - nothing here is well." With a sigh she plumped down to the ground. It was cold and wet and the seat of her skirt got soaked. But Alice was thinking; thinking; thinking. Every now and then she would glance at the old moon, grinning down like an unhinged dog, and Alice would frown. Whenever had the moon followed her home? Just her, and no one else, right up to her door to peer in the window as she found the note on the floor. A small-dropping idea click-clacked in Alice's brain. The note in her hands was soaked with her tears, but she peered at it hard until it became perfectly clear. This wasn't paper, but spun from thread, as fine as the lining of a bunny-rab's ear. She looked at the moon, who looked back down, and spied a sliversome thread trailing fine to the ground. Alice grabbed the end and began to pull, and the moon started to unravel like a spool of wool. Which, in fact, it was. Alice pulled faster, harder, and as the moon unspun it spat out three figures onto the snow. One was her Mummy, the other her Daddy, and a third she didn't know - a spiky white figure casting an eerie glow, who ran, yowling, into the night. "A snow sprite," Alice shouted. "A snow sprite." For although this sprite was bad, and had written a nasty note, Alice was excited. So... It was Christmas Eve, and although the house was burnty, Alice and her parents went inside to hang the stockings. "Why did the sprite burn the room?" Alice enquired. "Oh, I burnt the room, dear," her mother replied, "with my bread." "The sprite came along and offered a hand, and before we both knew it he had us bound, wrapped in a moon and set afloat. He wanted to see your face when you read that note," her father said. Alice blew a kiss to the moon beyond the window - the real moon this time, and sighed a happy sigh. She went to bed still smiling, her heart and head were clear. Her bed had been moved to the cellar, to make room for the baby's cradle, but Alice didn't fear. Daddy said nothing would change between them. Not until New Year. read more rants and raves |