From the back of the church the crèche scene glowed softly from the manger. A lone wise man shuffled, heavy, and knelt. “Where are the others?” whispered the pastor but there was no response. Lifting a leaden urn, the sheet-wrapped stranger only whispered, “For later.”
There was supposed to be gold. There should have been frankincense. There should have been more to praise the child. Where were the shepherds, the angels, the gifts? Instead, left behind was an analgesic known to numb pain and heal wounds.
As he passed me in the pew, I heard him say again, “For later.”
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You can read some background thoughts on this 100-word story here: Light is the First Thing to Go. Read other entries in this annual storytelling event here: I Saw Lightning Fall.
Esse Diem 
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Ok, first: fantastic! Suspense, creepy church, great descriptives without the chronic abuse of punctuation found in other writings.
Second: I’m truly riding that ACDC title as all I can think of is the after-party hangover…. 😉
Post more, Chica! Love them! (Dammit-I did it again!! And again….)
I like this. The myrrh was definitely for later.
Thanks for getting it. 🙂
Very poignant and elegaic. I really like it and wish more folks understood the nature of Christmas. It’s for sacrifice.
Beautiful and sad. I don’t find it creepy, and the foreboding (perhaps because of what I bring to it) is bittersweet. Very well done.
That means a lot to me. Thank you very much.
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