Prompt & Circumstance: Christmas Lights

It’s dark. Darker than it should be at 5 PM. And I am being jostled and bumped as I grip my little sister’s hand and push my way through the crowd. My parents have played the guilt card and whilst they stay at home and keep warm in front of the fire, I have drawn the short straw and have had to come out to witness the Christmas lights being turned on. ‘After all, you don’t get to spend much time with Becca these days.’ As if that’s a choice that I could help. I picked the university best for me, it just so happened to be the other end of the country.

A lot of people think the gap between me and my sister is weird. There is a clear 13 years between us. Becca was a surprise child (or accident if you want to be cynical). I love my sister but I hate being out with her because people look at me as if I am her mother. Some give me that pitying look and other disapproving and I just want to yell, ‘Not my kid! Just my sister.’ But instead I bite my tongue and just pull her along.

I manage to pull us out to the edge of the street. I put Becca in front of me and keep my hands on her shoulders. I know she wouldn’t wander off somewhere but at least this way I’ve covered my own back. There are lots of families around us and the noise level is almost unbearable. Our town is usually pretty sleepy but it feels like every single person has come out to see the lights being switched on. I’m not even sure why. The local council hasn’t changed them in years. They are the same crappy light fixtures that are hanging from the street lights and shop fronts as when I was a child.

I shuffle my feet slightly trying to keep myself warm. Becca is bouncing up and down herself but whether from excitement or cold I cannot tell. A guy with a tray of flashing lights comes down the street and Bec turns to me with her big blue eyes. “Jade, please can I get one. Please.” She is pulling at my arm and although I think it’s a waste of money I can’t say no. “Sure, Beccs.” I rummage in the pocket of my skinny jeans and pull out a fiver that has seen better days. I flag down the vendor and Becca picks out the gadget she likes the best, a spinning monstrosity of bright greens, reds and blues.

No sooner has she got it in her hand and is waving it around there is a burst of music from the stage that has been erected opposite us. The crowd around us erupts into cheers and my sister begins to jump up and down. Even I crane my neck and look down the end of the street as the parade begins. The black tarmac of the road becomes a catwalk for the floats that are sponsored by local businesses.

Father Christmas brings up the rear of the parade throwing out the bitesize chocolates you get from Celebrations tubs and children are restrained by their parents and guardians to stop them running onto the road. He heaves himself off the float and onto the stage where the mayor also stands with is chain hanging around his neck. He gives the usual speech, telling us all to be safe and to enjoy the Christmas season and how he is proud to spend another Christmas being mayor of this fine town. Then the countdown begins.

Becca grips my hand with the strength of a vice as we start at ten. With each number she hops up and down on the spot and jolly old Saint Nick grabs the lever. As we hit one he pulls it and the dark streets are lit up in ice blue images of starts and green holly. Best of all, the tree standing in the middle of the town centre lights up from top to bottom completing the somewhat picturesque scene.

Even though she’s seen it every year since she was three, it is as if that switch is also wired to Rebecca who lights up just as bright as the rest of the street. She hugs me around the middle. “Thanks for bringing me, Jade.” I look down at her and even though this wasn’t my ideal night, I smile. Ruffling the hair on the top of her head I tell her, “It’s alright, squirt. Now let’s head home, it’s freezing out here.” And once again I am bumped and jostled as I grip my sister’s hand and push my way through the crowd.

Prompt & Circumstance: Autumn

The library was warm. Too warm. That’s the thing with the university library there is never a happy medium. It’s either way too warm or absolutely freezing. I’d mention it to the staff but I doubt anything would ever be done about it. The students just adapt by varying the number of layers they are dressed in.

For the past two years November was a month where you could run home after lectures and put your feet up. Third year means you barely see sunlight. But I’ve finished for the day and at least I can still see my hand in front of my face. I won’t be so lucky in a few weeks time.

Walking though the campus there is a myriad of people and I begin to question if I do know what month it is. The university prospectus boasts glorious pictures of the beach across the road from campus and all on a bright and beautiful day. The question in my mind is if they will ever be done for false advertising? Regardless of the fact that it’s colder than it has been for a while and I can see my breath in puffs in front of my eyes many of my peers are dressed in flip flops and shorts. Apparently even when the weather dips to single digits they are still hopeful for beach time.

I stop questioning myself when I pass the Starbucks and see posters advertising their eggnog lattes and the signature red cups. Autumn means fire works. It means that Starbucks gets to make an extra few pence for serving their seasonal favourites and Christmas decorations get the dust blown off them ready to be put up in time for the Christmas parade at the end of the month.  

I finally find my way out of the grounds and as I walk down the street I watch as people become skilled in martial arts. They dodge and swipe at the leaves, helicopters and other debris that rains down on them. I stifle my laughter as a woman jumps when a leaf hits her forehead before continuing on its way.

People here seem more prepared. Gloves and scarfs and thicker coats are worn. There’s the occasional jogger going past who wears a beanie hat and I silently commend them for their courage. I’m not a runner on the best of days but when it’s like this… it’s a struggle for me to find the will to get out of bed.

The pavement that I walk on is no longer its dark and dull grey with spots of chewing gum white. Instead it is a thick carpet of fire. Reds, oranges and yellows glare up at me. Each step I take makes a satisfying crisp cracking sound which can just be heard over the noise of passing cars. I’m savouring each step today. It won’t be long before the bitterly cold air is cut by lashings of rain. Then the crunch of the leaves will disappear and becomes a sludge of brown matter that you pray won’t get stuck to your wellington boots.

It’s not long before I reach my car. Settling myself inside it’s as if the vehicle has become a cool box. Shivering, I jam my key into the ignition. It takes some time but eventually the car shows signs that it is alive. I turn the radiator dial from blue all the way to the thickest patch of red. I don’t dare to drive yet. Involuntary muscle spasms in the form of shivering do not exclude my legs. The last thing I need is to be tapping on the break and accelerator without any real means to.

Autumn always seems to go by in a hurry. It’s almost as if it rushes to clear up what summer has done ready for winter to make its grand appearance. But I like autumn and I wish it would stay longer. It’s an in between season where things change dramatically. Not just physically through the things around us but also the people.

I always find that people have changed the most around autumn. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent so long in education. After spending a summer where you see some and not others, starting back in autumn can be a showcase of changes. A catwalk for personalities. Stories about holidays, work experience and illnesses. And I listen to each, intent to learn how the person I knew only a few months ago has changed even if that change is slight.

The car eventually warms and I can finally see through the windscreen. I ease myself out of the car park and head towards home hoping that when I wake tomorrow that autumn will not have rushed out of my sight.

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