Word Count: 365
On one side of the desk were two boxes of Christmas cards. On the other, last year’s cards and a list. She opened the top box, took out the envelopes and set them in the center. She found the roll of stamps in the middle drawer. Everything was ready then. She got up and went into the kitchen and put on water for tea. She pulled out a mug, sifted through the flavored teas and selected Earl Grey and waited for the water to boil.
When she sat back down at the desk, she took a few sips of her tea and put it down, away from the cards, safe from an accidental spilling. It took her a few minutes more before she picked up a pen.
This was the first Christmas, one of a long line of firsts without him. She got through each one somehow, but Thanksgiving had nearly done her in. Signing cards with her name alone was going to be worse than the empty chair at the table.
By the third envelope she’d addressed, a new problem came up. Some of these cards were to people he’d worked with. Some people she’d never even met. Should she send a card anyway? He’d died four months ago. What was the protocol? Surely they wouldn’t continue sending cards to her over the years, would they? She started marking names with a checkmark–those she knew personally and those that were business friends of his. She’d decide later.
After a few more envelopes were addressed, she came to a friend of his from college. He’d come to the funeral. It was the first time she’d met him, though she’d talked to him on the phone a few times. She wrote out his address, but put a question mark by his name on the list.
She got through the list, double-checked it and addressed one more envelope.
Then it came to signing the cards. She put stamps on each envelope and set them aside. Took the cards and straightened them into a pile, placing one in the center and opened, read the greeting. She got up and put on the pot for more tea.
