One Day In December Novels & Stories

Twelve The trauma of losing her loved ones in a single day had irrevocably changed her perception of Christmas Day. The once joyful season had become a truly somber reminder of the tragedy that had befallen her. The sight of snow, a symbol of peace and tranquility, now filled Florence with nothing but absolute horrifying dread, a haunting reminder of the loss that she had endured.

Later that night, Aimee, Josh, Cole, and I walked through winter wonderland together on our ‘date’. Alaia was at home with her two grandmothers, who were excited to be babysitting her. The weather was freezing as it usually is in December in London. It was so magical; everything was lit up beautifully, Christmas music playing as couples and families get together to soak up the enchantment of Christmas.

December of the twelfth year had a quality that Ernest tried to describe and found required the full journal entry rather than the accurate sentence. He had been trying to write an accurate sentence for twenty minutes. The sentence would not come. The sentence was too small, too contained, too neat for the thing he was trying to describe. The quality of December was not a quality that could be captured in a single sentence, no matter how accurate. The quality of December was the quality of the accumulated twelve, the quality of the ordinary days that had built something that could no longer be described as a collection of ordinary days but had become something else, something larger, somethi

ELARA'S POV December arrived and with it the particular quality of the city preparing for winter. Seattle did Christmas without the theatrical snow of other cities, just the cold and the lights and the shortened days and the specific smell of the season that arrived in the first week of December like it had been waiting just offstage. I noticed it on a Monday morning walking to the gallery. The air different. The light different. The city doing something to itself that it only did once a year. I texted Damien from the street: *It smells like December.*

Thoroughly dumbfounded, he uploaded the proof he had found onto the confession page, then deleted his account. Everyone was stunned when they saw the records. No one expected that someone capable of enrolling in college in this day and age would only have a few dollars as their daily allowance, especially when the cheapest meal set at the cafeteria already costs at least 12 dollars! "That means out of 12 months of the year, she barely even gets to eat a full meal ten times!" "Damn, I can't even imagine living like that! She was suffering from a fever the other day and only managed to earn about one dollar. What could she possibly eat with that?"

Fully booked. Of course they were. It was the week between Christmas and New Year. Half the world was trying to go somewhere. I closed the laptop harder than necessary and sat back against my headboard. Ten more days. My own birthday was in three days. December the 24th. Christmas Eve. And I was stuck in this house until New Year's Day with a broken heart and nowhere to run. I thought about Steven.

The chilly December air enveloped Anna as she stood on the balcony, gazing up at the twinkling stars that adorned the night sky. It was 22nd December, just a few days away from Christmas day. Memories of past Christmases flooded her mind, and her heart ached with the absence of her beloved parents. This would be her first Christmas without them, and the void left behind was deeply felt.

Happy birthday to me. The long awaited day is here—December 21st. I’m finally eighteen. Unfortunately, I don’t feel any different today than I did yesterday. There was no midnight magic; no Power that miraculously appeared when the clock struck twelve. Yesterday was a completely uneventful day. We all stayed inside, hidden away while we waited. Pairs of Marines took turns watching Alcatraz, replaced every half hour so eyes and attention stayed fresh. No one reported seeing anything move on the island.

CALEB The first snow of the season dusts the University of Delaware campus on a Tuesday morning in mid-December, turning the brick pathways slick and treacherous. I watch it fall through the tall windows of Morris Library, where I've claimed the same corner table for over a wek—far enough from the main study areas to avoid casual conversation, close enough to the vending machines that I remember to eat something every few hours.

"I really want to go on holiday with a man like other adult girls." "But you're fine, right?" Mrs. Matthew cupped both sides of his only daughter. Angel nodded quickly. "I'm... very good." "Thank goodness," Mrs. Matthew breathed a sigh of relief, "now hurry up and get ready, your New Year's holiday is over." "What?!" Angel shouted with a flabbergasted face. There was no way he had already spent two weeks on vacation, when he felt like he had only been two nights in the vampire palace.