Each week, we meet at noon until two on Thursday to praise, encourage and help writers to improve their craft. The exception occurs near holidays when a phrase is announced for a fun story sharing session and a pot luck gathering. For Christmas 2015 the phrase was “Behind the Door.” This is my story.
Behind the Door: A Christmas Story
It was the day before Christmas. I stood on a curb in front of a pharmacy in San Francisco looking up a steep street. I thought the lack of snow created a deep contrast to Steamboat. Then a hearse turned the corner and started up the hillside. My thoughts turned to how sad a death would be for the family during the holidays. About half way up the hill, the back of the hearse swung open. The casket and gurney rolled out and on impact with the street, the springs on the gurney popped up. Both came waving down the street bouncing from curb to curb. A lady with a baby stroller barely got out of the way. Then the casket flew straight down the street at me. I tried to escape into the drug store, but a man behind the door prevented it. So, I watched it hit the curb, become airborne and smash through the display window. It rolled to the counter and abruptly stopped causing the lid to the casket to burst open. As the dust settled, the bald headed pharmacist peeked over the counter just as the corpse sat up and said “Do you have anything to stop this coughin’?