Midnight's Surrender

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Rennie placed the small, gold, glittered star atop what was a poor excuse for a Christmas tree. She stepped back and grimaced.

“Charlie Brown’s tree looks better than mine,” she said as her silver tabby meowed up at her. “Don’t worry, Felix, your present will be there. It’ll be the only thing under that pitiful tree, but at least there will be a present. I’d rather a wish. How about someone I can spend the rest of my life with?”

Rennie turned away from the Christmas tree with a derisive snort and looked out the living room window. Everything was gray. They sky, the water, the very air. A snowstorm was coming, but the weathermen had been saying that for days.

Not that there was much excitement on the small isle of Coll. Life was as ordinary and dull as it could get. It was a mantra she repeated to herself every day, but she couldn’t seem to leave. There was something holding her—she just hadn’t figured out what that was yet.

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