Fiction: Jenny Says She's Doing Fine, Now

This one fits the proper specs under 300 words. If you're wondering what's this about...it's just a fun writing thing. Starting a story with "The Doorbell Rang" and ending it with "the snow began to fall."

It should be no more than 300 words. Anyway, here's take two:


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The doorbell rang. I was right in the middle of my second shot of bourbon and felt a little embarrassed about heading to the door. But what the hell, it's around seven so...so what. I paused in case somebody else might answer the door I was sitting 10 feet from.

"I got it!" I yelled to the household in general, put down my copy of the I Robot I had been intending to read for the past decade and a half, and answered the door.

It was Paula from next door, widow of a well respected boxing coach who got into some state boxing hall of fame or something.

"I got your mail" She said blandly. "Here." She thrust a letter into my hand, turned and left.

"Seeya, Paula!" I said perfunctorily probably after I had closed the door, and glanced down at the envelope; hand written address on Christmasy stationary with a big, sleigh-bell stamp on the front.

My address. But addressed to some Ms. Hilda Franz.

I sat back down on the couch and yelled, "Hey...honey...do we know a Hilda Franz?"

She yelled back from the kitchen "Uh...wasn't she the previous owner of this house before she died? Like...a couple years before we bought the house or something..."

"Oooooh...yeah!"

I opened it. Inside, a standard Christmas photo-card of a large family, with a hand written note at the bottom:

Merry Christmas from all of us, Mom. Jenny says she's doing fine, now.

-- Charles.

A phone number was written carefully at the bottom.

I poured another glass of bourbon and picked up the phone.

Outside, the snow began to fall.