Flash Fiction Piece

Kristi Zarrilli

5/3/12

Flash Fiction Piece

Needles

            Every year John waited for his two daughters to get home for winter break to buy them a Christmas tree. A tradition he very must treasured, a tradition they very much did not. They always rolled their eyes as their dad started the old Subaru and called them outside to begin their quest for a tree. His wife never joined always finding something else she had to do instead. She always promised to help decorate but she never did that either.

“Let’s make this quick,” Emily, his younger daughter said.

“Agreed,” Laura said as she stared blankly into her iphone.

“Come on guys! We need this.” He pleaded trying to hold onto the tradition they had since they were little.

            They arrived at Odonal’s nursery. Emily lost in her ipod. Laura lost in her iphone. Although they wouldn’t admit it, they secretly liked being the one who picked out the best tree. They split up.

“This one,” Emily said loudly but not enthusiastically.

“You always choose the bad ones. It is too fat and short,” Laura always denied Emily’s opinion. It had become tradition.

John always liked Emily’s choices. Subtle yet once decorated he knew it would look great. He watched her eyes as she studied the tree like she would find something hidden among the branches.

“It’s perfect.” He said smiling at Emily. “All the needles won’t fall off, not this year. I will make sure of that.”

“You can’t stop needles from falling off dad,” she said with a sudden sadness, a sudden detachment. She quickly looked down at her feet. “Okay so this means we can tie it to the roof and go.”

“Whatever you say,” He said staring off into the distance.

They set it up in the living room and spent the night decorating it. None of the ornaments went together. Some were to heavy they weighed down the branches, some had broken strings so they wouldn’t stay on. The angel was cheap and flimsy but for some reason she managed to hold on at the top of the tree every year. The tree was tilted backwards despite John’s many attempts to make it upright.

“Why can’t we ever have stability?” Emily asked Laura as they stared at the slanted tree.

Laura looked back at her sadly; “There are too many useless ornaments weighing it down.”

They stopped for a moment and looked at the tree.

“We used to have huge perfect Christmas trees. Do you remember decorating them while Christmas music played?” Laura asked her sister.

“Of course I do Laura. I wonder when dad will give up on trying.” Emily said

“Never,” Laura said quietly. “Not until the last needle falls.”