Home for Christmas

I really hope I haven't posted this here before, but I looked and it seems like I actually thought it through and waited for more christmassy times afterall.
Originally a school paper from last year, thought it fitting somehow, because it's almost christmas and well.. I got inspired when I looked through the creative corner. and also because I should be doing other things.

Home for Christmas



It was a cold day, the coldest day London ever had to suffer for many years. Frost was covering every corner of the city and glittered in the faint sun. It was a beautiful morning, though people didn’t take any notice. They hurried from store to store, getting more and more overwhelmed by bags and boxes and soon looking more like pack-donkeys rather than people. He observed them from the window, Mr Patterson, and laughed at how stupid they all looked. All buying presents in the last minute, so stupid. He hadn’t bothered at all, his wife had full control. She always had full control, but so had he, Mr Patterson reminded himself. He scratched his chin and figured it was time to put on his coat and head for the train station.
Outside it was even colder than he had expected. He pulled up the collar, though he soon got red-nosed and frostbites in his fingers anyway. It really was bone chilling cold out here. He took long, resolute steps through the city and his pace was good. He bought himself some bitter, hot coffee and a newspaper. He glanced at the front page for a brief second before going on the train. The news today wasn’t of any big interest to him, but he didn’t bother. What Mr Patterson was interested in was the crosswords and sudokus in it. He loved crosswords and sudokus. Any sort of puzzle and mystery he just loved to dig into. It was the satisfying feeling he got when he solved it that drew him. And of course, especially when it came to crimes, the new problem; what to do with the information one now has? He sat down and got comfy. He had a long trip in front of him, long enough to plunder about the last problem.
He watched the people on the train come and go. He watched their annoying, happy faces. He watched them greet each other and saying things like “oh my, how cold it is outside”. Mr Patterson tried to ignore them. It was hard though when they stuck their red-nosed faces with those big cold cheeks right over the newspaper wishing him a “Happy Holliday”. He had a serious problem to solve, though no one seemed to care. After a while he got so grumpy no one dared to sit next to him. “Finally some peace”, he muttered, “so I can concentrate on my problem.”
What sort of punishment did a crime like that deserve? It was a great betrayal, he thought. He heard his stomach growl and interrupted his thinking. He expected his wife had made dinner for him. That was the least she could do. She didn’t do anything else, anyway. He looked forward to come home to a hot meal and his very comfortable armchair. He just had to figure out the problem first. He wouldn’t be able to rest before it was solved.
“Good Morning, Mr Patterson.”
He looked up. A young woman had sat down in the seat opposite to him. He didn’t answer.
“Going home for Christmas?”
“What is that of your business, eh?” he barked back. No, he wasn’t going home for Christmas. Not really. He hadn’t meant to go this year in the first place, but then this problem came up, whichneeded to be solved. He would rather have spent the days off from the office in his apartment drinking a bottle of wine.
“Well, it is what we all do this time of year, isn’t it?” The woman replied rather baffled by the unfriendly answer.
“Then why ask?” He didn’t like this woman and he tried to come up with a sentence that would make her go away, but didn’t seem too impolite.
“Well, I’m sorry to interrupt your joyful thoughts. Aren’t you exited to go home to your family?” This woman was full of questions.
“No.” That seemed to shut her up. It was quite honest. They were so noisy and demanding, always wanting him to come to activities and his daughter’s violin concerts. They didn’t understand that the office needed him. He was the boss now. He had to earn money for violin lessons and hockey equipment. They didn’t understand.
“Mr Patterson-“
“How do you know my name?” He said.
“What?”
“How do you know my name?” Mr Patterson repeated. He couldn’t remember introducing himself.
“I’m Anna Jenkins, your secretary.” She looked at him for a long time. Mr Patterson stared back, but then he dug himself back into his newspaper, pretending to read. After a while Anna went and sat somewhere else. Finally.
The train slowly got emptied and he knew he soon was home. He felt very relaxed because he had figured out the problem now. It was a hard punishment, but very fair, he though. It is what she deserves. It is such a great betrayal. He folded the newspapers together and stuck in his inner pocket. The house was just a walking distance from the station so he buttoned up and started walking. Out here it had even snowed a bit. A thin layer of icy snow covered the small lawns and trees. No car was seen in the street because no one dared to drive on the icy roads. He felt exhausted, he had been travelling all day. Mr Patterson looked at the houses. Some of them were over decorated with lights and reindeers.
The house was warm. His wife had lit up the fireplace. He couldn’t smell any dinner and felt angry. Stupid woman. She knew what he expected of her. He sat down by the dinner table and took off his hat.
“George!?” His wife stood in the door. She looked awfully surprised, “you’re back.”
“Yes, I am. Why so surprised?” He got up from the chair.
“I just thought you… never mind.” She twitched nervously and hurried to take Mr Patterson’s coat.
“You just thought I what?” He turned and looked at her. Her eyes constantly looking over at the stairs to the second floor.
“Well, you said you would like to spend Christmas in London, that’s all.”
“Where’s my dinner, Sybil?” She looked pale and took a step back when he asked her this.
“I didn’t know you were coming.” She went to the fridge and opened it. “I haven’t prepared anything, but there are some leftovers from yesterday.” She dried her hands on the shirt.
“Have you forgotten who you are married to, Sybil?” She now was trembling and her voice unsteady.
“You, George, I’m married to you.” Her eyes glanced towards the stairs again.
“Who’s on the second floor?” He asked. She backed slowly away from Mr Patterson, but he followed.
“Who’s there?”
“No one, just the kids.” She said with a thin voice. He heard someone flush upstairs then an electric shaver started running.
“Just the kids, eh?”

Many people looked into the yard of Mr and Mrs Patterson and wondered why Mr Patterson had started gardening work in December, but they didn’t ask. Mr Patterson was a grumpy old man, way too old for his lovely wife, and no one really liked talking to him. They were also quite disappointed that Mrs Patterson hadn’t answered their invitation to celebrate New Year’s Eve with them. She was always so lovely to be around, in contrary to Mr Patterson. Therefore no questions were asked until many years had passed.

Are you normally asked to write papers in English?

Also, I think Mrs Patterson should be the one unexpectedly gardening in winter.

This has inspired me to write a poem about muffins

very good ! I like "dark" stories !

Have you read Darkest Day*? (hint, nudge shameless self publicity)-

http://www.hobbitmovieforum.com/t336-dark-planet-day-challenge-forumshire-fanfic

*may not bne as dark as the title implies!

I shall certainly catch up with as many stories as I can ! like I look at all the vids etc I can, If people post things it only fair you should look at them ? & I feel Ive a LOT of catching up to do if Im to vote fairly & unbiasedly.

halfwise wrote:Are you normally asked to write papers in English?

Also, I think Mrs Patterson should be the one unexpectedly gardening in winter.

that would actually make a cool ending too very Roald Dahl.

I don't normally get asked to write papers in English, but when I do, it would be last year. I don't have english anymore only freaking german ..

I just want to say A very Happy Christmas to all of you ! Its been another wonderful year of fun & laughter I could never imagine ever leaving this place now, its too much like family !

Up at 6am for work If I see Santa I'm mugging the bastard and stealing all his presents.

Nab some for me too! And could you check to see what sex the reindeer are? Some fools were claiming that having antlers that late in the year made them female.

Jeez.... Females or "simla" have horns during "spring" although it's not really what you would call spring, in may-june-ish Because thats when calves are born. There is a saying that if it snows, tje last snow-storm of the year called pinseria, the calves are strong males grow they're horns during summer, they're all fuzzy and cute, and then in the autumn or late summer the fuzz falls off and the horns become dangerous and they fight for women. Cleared that up?

So i guess females have fuzzy antlers during christmas and rudolph lives a lie

I guess I must have missed this story when it was first posted but I read it now and dayum. Very effective little domestic horror yarn there.

Haha Thank you

Christmas?

I thought it was Erumas in Forumshire?