Christmas Tree

Undersea St. Thomas 4 Meme

For Friday Fictioneers A tree is for life, not just for Christmas.

‘You want to do what?’

‘The misses will be stoked, I mean it will save money. We won’t need to buy another one. We’ll just put it in the back garden, dig a hole, and then we will have our own tree next year.’

‘It needs the roots, it won’t keep on growing, I mean, why don’t you get a fake one in the January sales. I can’t carry this all the way to your house, my back is breaking and I could do with another pint.’

Friends, pals, and still the alcohol in their blood had dulled to a constant stream of silly ideas. They had seen the tree, in a bin, and thought it a good idea at the time. Now it didn’t seem as great, especially since they were two miles from home.

‘So what do we do with this one then?’

David looked at the 7ft tree in his arms, and the friends, who were kind enough to carry the load and smiled. ‘We’ll take it to the tip, the walk will do us good, and then we can have a swift half down the Alpha Arms.’

All nodding in agreement, they turned the corner to the tip. It was only a short walk and he allowed the weight he put on over Christmas settle. To see the new year in with friends, was worth doing right.

It wasn’t going to be a swift half, more like an slow pint, followed by another pint, and possibly a whisky or three. That didn’t matter. What did matter was he was surrounded by friends.

He would need them when he arrived back home – he was only meant to get a pint of milk, and that was three hours ago. Not his fault really, he spotted his mate Tom at the corner shop, and they thought they would leave the car where it was and get a taxi back home.

As they hoisted the tree over the fence – Christmas opening hours and the whisky still in their system and they hoped the security guard wanted to go home for the day and not bother with a few drunken men, with their new year resolution.

To help more in the house and save a few pounds after Christmas.

Published by writerravenclaw

I am a fifty something mother of two grown up children, and one beautiful grandchild. I have been married for nearly thirty-four years. My first book was published ten years ago. I wrote my book Sticks and Stones because of my experience of being bullied at school.

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