A solitary white candle in the middle of a long, flawlessly decorated table.
Margie leaned over to light the wick, the finishing touch on her immaculate holiday feast.
“I’ll be back with the turkey,” she told guests. Technically, family. His family. But in six long years she had never felt welcome.
One forced smile for her husband later, Margie disappeared into the kitchen. She didn’t stop there though. She tossed her apron and met her sister who was waiting outside, engine running.
Margie smiled as the pair sped away.
Just wait until they figure out there was never a turkey.
The Weekday One Hundred 