Page 3 of Miss Christmas

It’s another agonising fifteen minutes before headlights glow through the thick snow that’s turning the world into ice, and I wave my phone in the air with gusto.

It’s a truck.

It could be Noddy for all I care, and I’d still get in. I can’t feel my toes.

The truck slows, and I see the orange hazard lights blinking, notifying all around that it’s stopping on the hill.

My teeth are chattering as I move towards the truck when the driver's door opens, a winter hat bobbing towards me in the mist.

“You ok?” Calls the voice, a male voice.

“Cold,” I call back as the man stomps forward through the snow, thick winter boots that grip the ice easily.

I can’t see him, but he guides me towards the truck, holding me up as I slip and slide on the ice. He tugs open the door of the car, helping me into the warmth of the cabin. The door slams shut behind me, and it’s then I realise my nose is completely numb. The driver's door opens, and my saviour climbs in, handing me his hat and gloves.

“Put those on.”

I close my eyes as I tug the hat on, pulling the gloves on over my bone-white fingers. The heater is blasting against my skin, and I bask in it gratefully as the truck moves.

“What happened?” The voice asks with concern, and I shake my head, trying to speak.

“Crashed,” I mumble, my lips hurting from the movement of speech.

“Shit, is your car back there?”

“Yes.”

“Ok. My friend runs a garage in town, which isn’t too far away. I’ll take you there.”

I close my eyes, nodding as I thank him mentally.

What a start to my holidays.