TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "GREEN"

 

    Welcome! This week the word prompt is "green". We have a snippet from my new story, still yet to be named. Tyler Bentley is a football kicker out of a job. We join him as he faces the reality of returning home in disgrace. Don't forget to read all the Tuesday Tales stories. You can find them HERE. Thanks for stopping by. 

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As he approached a darkened street breaking off from Cedar, the streetlamp shone on the sign. Stepping Stone Lane. He stopped and stared. Blackness greeted him. All the houses were dark. He twisted his lips into a rueful grin. With only a week left until Christmas, people must be out shopping. Everyone couldn’t be at that damn firehouse party, could they? Did he really care where everyone was? Not really. In fact, it was comforting to see all the empty houses. Fewer people to rub his face in his failure.  

He peered down the street once more. “Merrily Adams,” he muttered, nodding. She probably didn’t live with her parents anymore. His mother had kept him up-to-date on Merrily’s life. A successful writer, she’d be living in a tony apartment in the city, he figured.  Good thing, too. How could he face her after such a monumental disaster?

The cold sent a chill up his spine, or was it at the notion of facing his old high school girlfriend? What difference did it make? He quickened his pace to leave the street, and the disturbing thoughts behind.

As he walked along, Christmas lights strung up around doors and windows, and outlining evergreen trees caught his eye. Christmas spirit? He had none. How could he think about buying gifts, opening presents, laughing, snarfing down eggnog and going sledding on his favorite hill? None of it mattered. His bought gifts for his family and friends online and had them shipped.

The one welcome sight was the light layer of snow covering the ground. Sure didn’t have that in Las Vegas. In fact, he hated Vegas, except for the team, he’d never live there in a million years.

A rueful smile twisted his lips. He wouldn’t have to face the gaudy, phony, garish city anymore. He rounded the bend and approached his mother’s small house. The light on the front porch glowed. His mom always left it on when he went out. The lights on her modest Christmas tree blinked, shining colors then white light through the living room window.