Merry Christmas, Friends!
Welcome to the #12DaysofTwitter blog series! Have you seen some of your writer friends sporting funny Christmas-y names? Well, what began as a simple name change from one twitter writer snowballed, and is now a chance for twenty-four awesome writers to share memories and stories of what Christmas means to us. Click this link for the complete link list of all twelve days.
Today we have the lovely Helen Boswell with a quick little memory that might just give you nightmares. (Not really, but it feels that way at first.) Our other day-three-er is Allen (@AllenOzWriter) who has had some crazy busy weeks and was unable to get us a story. Totally understandable. But, he did mention a funny Christmas memory about a company party at Outback steakhouse, and an interestingly shaped lamp... maybe ask him about it on Twitter...
Three Hells Bells
THE CHRISTMAS CLOCK
A scream and a crash filled the living room, and my brother and I stared at Mom in shock. She backed away from the box, shouting something at Dad before running upstairs.
Dad turned to us, his expression grave. He cleared his throat. “I should have explained things to you better when you were kids. In China, there’s a superstition that giving someone a clock as a present is to wish him or her dead.”
My brother’s face was beet red – he’d worked all semester long to buy my parents that gorgeous clock that now lay on the floor.
“If I take it, does that superstition still hold?” I asked. Dad shook his head and left to check on Mom.
And that is the story of how I came to own the Christmas clock. It still sits in my house to this day, and it tells perfect time.
The Christmas clock of death. Please, no one ever give me a clock for a gift, ever.
Come back tomorrow for more! See ya then :)