#WriteCBC
'I'm happy to move,' I said. My shoulders slumped. I felt as degradable as a rain-soaked, paper carrier, my emotions ready to spill out.
'You'll be looked after, Mum?' my son said.
'Yes, it's a nice place.' I smiled, breathing in the scent of pine as the Christmas tree lights blurred.

The chandelier fails to light the dark cornices yet its fallen crystals glisten like tears. I think of all the feet to have worn these floorboards, the dusty air bristles with history's shadows. My heart stops. A faucet explodes with blood-red water. Only rust. Still, this viewing is over. #WriteCBC

The pebble was smooth, cold and hard, all adjectives her mum used to describe her dad after he left. Ironic, it was his last gift and all she had left of him. Grey and dull, the stone mirrored her life. Caressing its polished surface, she decided to leave her marriage. #WriteCBC

The Mammoth skeleton loomed. Hard to imagine such beasts had existed. Lee stared at the giant rib cage, thinking of his own, concealed under layers of fat. His ancestors were lean hunters but he was their burger-jowled legacy. He grabbed the choccy bar from his pocket and strode to the bin #WriteCBC

A young woman stood on Liz's top step, a blood-red rose trembled in her hands. An icy gust whipped the visitor's red hair across her pale face but Liz had already seen her eyes. One iris blue, the other green. Apart from the obvious age gap, Liz was staring at her twin. #WriteCBC

#WriteCBC He knew something was wrong as she meandered through the trees. But still he ran, desperate to melt into her. An angry gust of dead leaves rose as if trying to stop him. Passion flamed as he reached her. Sad, apologetic eyes stared up at him. The chill morning dew shivered into his heart.

#WriteCBC
Roses flamed over the house, almost hiding it. Liam snuck a key past tangled thorns, opening a frail door. Inside, a smothering mustiness and a slow ticking clock. On damp, bruised walls hung a walking stick, mac and flat cap. Liam snatched the stick and slunk forward.

'Winter, you will not encroach further,' Ella said, hardly recognising her booming voice.

'At last,' her mum sobbed. 'I'm sorry. I sent the card to remind you who you really are - queen of summer.'

The air warmed and the fire burst into flames. Ella smiled. Winter was tamed. #FiveActFestiveStory

Ella's lashes froze but her heart flamed. It couldn't end like this. Winter couldn't win, not while summer still lived within her. Ice melted on her face as an inner heat radiated.
Winter roared but faulted.
'I'm sorry,' Ella said. 'Ice and hate can never defeat warmth and love.' #5ActFestiveStory

Ella pointed to the card. 'He's sorry. Maybe he's changed?'
Her mum glared at her. 'Can we risk it?'
Ella thought back to the beatings and their numerous hospital trips. 'Let's go,' she said.
Outside the snow tried to blind them but they both saw the man leaning against their car. #5ActFestiveStory

Pam stared into Ella's concerned eyes, her heart drummed with angst. The TV sang Silent Night, emphasising the mute atmosphere which hung heavier than the storm clouds. Despite promising not to, he'd made contact. They weren't safe. The doorbell rang.
Don't answer it, Pam whispered #5ActFestiveStory

Jan gripped the postcard. The smudged writing was unmistakably her husband's. Exactly ten years ago, on Christmas Eve, he'd disappeared. The hope she'd quelled, blossomed again. Her brain unfroze. No stamp. Hail rattled the oak door. She yanked it open and the storm howled in. #5ActFestiveStory