Welcome to this week’s installment of many micro stories, ranging in length from 100 words to 500 words.

With each story we hope to deliver a little whimsy into the lives of our readers.

CHRISTMAS EVE

Bastet weaves through the crowd stomping along the streets with ease. Everyone is dressed in thick winter coats and gloves, which she has also donned so she doesn’t stand out. Her puffy coat is a garish yellow with a bright orange scarf to match. They were the only ones she could find on such short notice.

As she attempts to scan the crowd again, her foot catches on a gap in the pavement. She pinwheels her arms before falling flat on her face. A few of the humans give her sympathetic looks as they pass her. She jumps to her feet with a hiss, running her tongue along a tooth that feels like it might be chipped.

She’s not used to a human body.

It’s been years since she had to use her human form and her clumsiness is evident. She had wanted to remain in her feline form, until she realised that there were too many humans. They’re celebrating a holiday called Christmas Eve, where everyone is required to rush about in a loud panic to get ready for Christmas. She doesn’t understand why they don’t just get ready in advance but knows better than to try to make sense of their customs.

A cold gust of wind blows her dark hair in all directions. The scowl on her face deepens and she wishes the human she was looking for would show himself already.

There’s a break in the crowd towards the road, so she darts through it. Her fingers begin to tingle from the freezing temperatures, and she just wants to return to her warm den.

But then she spots him.

A man, leaning against a wall of one of the human shops. His face is covered in sweat and his coat is unzipped as if he’s boiling hot. His skin is almost grey and his breathing is laboured, like his lungs aren’t taking in enough air.

But Bastet knows it’s him from the smell. Although he’s still alive, just, the scent of decay is unmistakable. Her lips press into a fine line as she mulls over her options. She must get him away from the crowd before the infection reaches its peak.

While crossing the road she once more stumbles over her own feet and curses to herself. In the second that she looked away, the man has gone.

Panic rises in her chest as she looks in both directions before spotting him. There are now colourful bags in one of his hands while the other is leading a young girl forward. Bastet’s instincts kick in as the man suddenly stops, clutching his chest. She rushes forward and manages to rip the girl out of his weak grip.

“Hey!” A woman walking just ahead of him whirls around. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The man moans and snaps his head to glare at the woman. Before Bastet can react, he lunges forward and sinks his teeth into the woman’s hand.

She’s failed to stop the plague. 

If you enjoyed this story you can find it and more in the Hawthorn & Ash 2023 anthology.

AVAILABLE HERE!