Approaching the counter at the same time, both men gestured the other to go ahead. After a brief hesitance, the shorter took the offer. Middle-aged and suited, he smiled with ease—unperturbed by jet lag. His shoes glossy, walk steady, and stance authoritative, he nodded to the woman who smiled, handing him his US passport.
The taller man was suited, too—a corporate passenger attending an event. He appeared younger than the other, but with shoes as shiny and a walk just as confident. With a curt smile, “Please scan your bag.” the woman said before returning his middle eastern passport.
As he lit the candles, Mr Aarons remembered the pain of his people. Never forget, was his policy. Dr Lawrence, though, was welcoming on the outside. But in the privacy of his living room, he was just another paranoid man; doubting the weird neighbours who had no wreathes.
Holly and Abigail took the same bus, to the same school, and sat in the same classroom. At class, they made holiday cards. When Holly handed hers to her parents, they couldn’t believe their eyes. Neither could the Aarons.
“Merry Christmas” wrote Abigail and “Happy Hanukkah” wished Holly. Kids have bigger minds.
It had been a rough day. Judge Marsh had sentenced a teenager for pursuing his high school crush. She, the mayor’s daughter, had complained of his misbehaviour. The judge understood only too well.
“Darkness is in his blood,” the judge shook his head as his apprentice gathered his things. Eager to please, “Oh, yes sir!” echoed the disagreeing lad.
They left, fastening their coats against the snowy breeze. Looking at the team of horses outside, the apprentice couldn’t help but smile.
“Beautiful,” he remarked turning to his boss. “Horses don’t recognize colours do they, sir? Perhaps that’s why they’re inclusive.”
A work of fiction for Friday Fictioneers.
“Run away!” warned the lame boy.
It’s been a while since I posted a six-word-story. What do you think?