Here’s a bit of flash fiction for the season. It’s called Dasher and Dancer:
Dasher and Dancer
“Dude, hurry up. Time’s a’wastin’,” Rudy said.
Slamming the locker door, the other man tossed his used towel into the hamper. “I’m ready.”
“It’s about time, Dasher. We’re going to be late.”
“Why do you insist on calling me Dasher?”
“You’re the only guy I know who can run the fifty yard dash that fast. The name fits.” Rudy clapped him on the back. “I want you to meet that girl I told you about. She’s just your type. All doe-eyed and brown hair.”
“Then let’s get to that vixen’s party.”
“You don’t like me calling you Dasher but you always call my girlfriend Vixen.”
“Like you said, it fits.” The man referred to as Dasher led the way out of the gym and to the parking lot.
Soon, they arrived at the party. The house was decorated with enough lights to illuminate a small Middle Eastern village.
“I’d hate to be the one to pay your gal’s January power bill.” Dasher rang the doorbell.
“Yeah. I’m glad it’s her nickel and not mine.”
Once they were inside, Dasher glanced around at the crowd. Spying a gorgeous girl near the punch bowl, he turned to Rudy. “Who’s that chick over there with the brown hair rocking around the Christmas tree?”
“We call her Dancer since she’s always boogieing. She’s the one I wanted you to meet.”
“Then lead on.” Dasher followed Rudy across the room to the table laden with cookies, fudge and other sweets. There was one plate of vegetables arranged in the shape of a wreath with lettuce in a circle with tiny tomatoes and kale arranged as holly and another with broccoli, carrots and cauliflower shaped like a Christmas tree.
Glad to see at least one or two healthy foods since he had to keep in running shape, Dasher decided to ignore the snacks for the moment and concentrate on the girl. She really was pretty.
Rudy tapped her on the shoulder. When she turned to face them, Dasher sucked in a breath. Up close, she was absolutely stunning. And doe-eyed for sure. He held out his hand as Rudy introduced them.
When she clasped his, hers was so cool and smooth it was all he could do not to put it to his lips and kiss it as if he were from another age or another country.
“Since you’re called Dancer, would you like to dance with me?” Dasher asked.
“I’d love to.”
He was glad the band played a slow song next. That way, he didn’t have to let go of her hand.
Leading her to the area cleared for dancing, Dasher spun Dancer around the room and stared into those beautiful eyes.
As the song, Silver Bells, continued, Dancer hummed along. They moved in unison. Dasher realized she was the perfect Christmas gift for him.
He liked to dash, she liked to dance and they fit together perfectly. Both clearly loved Christmas music. They were meant to be.
THE END… OR…THE BEGINNING…