Heart & Sol Month Days 9 & 22
Prompts: Shared Secrets and Under the Stars
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A short story comes with this one!
A Lonely Kind of Cheer
The town square glowed with twinkling lights, festive garlands draped across every storefront. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, settling on the cobblestone streets like tiny, frozen stars. It was the kind of picture-perfect winter evening that should have felt magical.
But for Dogday, it felt heavy.
He leaned against a lamppost near the bakery, watching the towns-critters bustle past, their arms full of wrapped gifts and baskets of sweets. Everywhere he turned, someone was laughing, smiling, embracing the season. And every time someone waved at him-called his name-he waved back, flashing that effortless grin of his.
Just keep smiling. They expect you to be happy.
The thought sat sourly in his chest.
It hadn’t always been like this.
In the past he had thrown himself into the holiday rush-helping neighbors hang their lights, hauling trees into living rooms, carrying more bags of flour and sugar into the bakery than Bobby could count. If he kept moving, kept helping, kept making himself useful, maybe he’d find the warmth of the season that everyone else seemed to feel so easily.
But this year was different.
The cold months were a drain. The long, sunless days left him exhausted before he even got out of bed. The thought of lifting another box, decorating another tree, or forcing another grin made his limbs feel like they were weighed down with rocks.
The exhaustion was deeper this time. And worse. This year, he didn’t have the energy to ignore it.
“Dogday!”
He turned at the sound of Bobby’s voice, and for a split second, his exhaustion faded. There she was, bundled in her favorite holiday sweater, a tray of steaming pastries balanced effortlessly in her hands. She looked as warm and bright as the holiday itself.
“There you are! I was hoping I’d run into you.” She beamed, offering him one of the treats. “Fresh out of the oven! Tell me that doesn’t make you feel at least a little festiiiive!"
He took the pastry automatically, but his stomach twisted at the forced cheer in her voice.
It was too much.
Her eyes were too bright. Her voice too eager. And the way she moved- it was as if she was trying to keep pace with the world around her, not allowing a single moment of stillness.
Dogday had known Bobby long enough to recognize when something was off. And right now, beneath all that sparkle, he could see it. Something strained.
Something painfully familiar.
“You ever sit down this time of year?” Dogday asked, keeping his voice light.
Bobby huffed a laugh. “Not if I can help it. Too much to do! So many cookies to bake, decorations to fix, last-minute gifts to wrap—”
“Sounds exhausting,” he cut in.
She hesitated for a fraction of a second. So quick that anyone else might have missed it. But Dogday didn’t.
Then she laughed again, waving him off. “I like being busy.”
That was truth but with a hidden lie. He knew it.
But what was he supposed to do? Call her out? Tell her he knew exactly what she was doing because he did the same thing?
