Silent Nights

This was my entry in the Flashshot Christmas competition of 2003. Like "Escape From Fear" it didn’t win or place, but my inner snob rather likes it.

Julia was dreaming. ‘No, don’t take them – I’ll change, I’ll be extra doubleplus good!’

Winston touched her shoulder. ‘You were having a bad dream.’

‘His… people were coming for me.’ Julia shivered. ‘I hate this time of year. The false war bulletins, the extra surveillance…’

Winston kissed her. ‘Then stay still. He must think you’re sleeping.’

Julia lay back. ‘He won’t know I’m awake,’ she promised, closing her eyes.

Winston stared at the bearded portrait above the heater. His drying socks steamed on the rail. ‘Goodnight, Sir,’ he whispered impudently.

The red-suited figure said nothing, but Winston began to sweat: outside he could hear a clatter…

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