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Author's Note:  Here at Black Coffee Fiction, we celebrate the holiday season by posting depressing stories about Christmas to make our readers feel better about their own holiday experiences. Know that while writing this story, I was laughing the whole time.

The telephone sat before him, lit only by the glow from his laptop’s screen. Jordy Lestrange had decided that as the only employee in the building, he could throw caution to the wind and turn on the overhead fluorescents that his fellow service techs kept off. After five minutes under full illumination, Jordy turned the lights back off, unable to bear the revealed dust bunnies, candy wrappers, and unidentifiable carpet stains. Two hours into his shift, and the phone remained silent. On any normal day, he would have fielded at least five questions from irritated customers, perhaps kicking one over to one of the engineers or a manager if the customer started shouting obscenities. But on the day after Christmas, the technical support line was dead as old Marley.

Blind Date - Part IV

By Bettyann Moore

“Pretty lousy day, huh?” Mr. Bowen said.

“Understatement of the year,” Kathie mumbled. She’d spent the last period of the day lying on a narrow cot in the nurse’s office, though she certainly wasn’t sick. Upset maybe. Appalled, yes. If she thought about what had happened to that girl’s sister, her stomach churned. Scared, definitely.

She wasn’t even going to stop in to talk to Mr. B, but he’d seen her as she passed his open door and motioned her inside. This way, at least, she wouldn’t have to hear the snickers and see the stares in the corridors. She was certain she’d forever be known as “the girl who threw up in study hall” … until someone did something worse.

Blind Date - Part III

By Bettyann Moore

Kathie was pretty sure Marie had put him up to it, but Jim offered her a ride to school the next day, which she gladly accepted. It pissed her off, though, that she was changing her routine all because of Peter Johnson. She was in a crappy mood when she got to school and, naturally, had a hard time opening her locker.

“Piece of shit,” she cursed, kicking at the bottom, which often helped.

“Miss Hudson, I’ll ignore that for now,” Mr. Bowen, her first hour teacher said. He was standing right behind her with a pink hall pass in his hand.

Blind Date - Part II

By Bettyann Moore

Kathie’s week started out well. She’d aced the English exam she’d taken on Friday, a good thing for someone on academic probation. The best part, though, was being invited to go down to The Tap, the local after-school hangout, by a group of kids from her sixth period study hall. She could only stay long enough to eat some fries and drink a shake because she’d promised Marie she’d watch the kids while she did some Christmas shopping, but it was long enough to tell that she liked them and that they liked her.

The phone was ringing when Kathie sailed into the house, still chuckling to herself over a story one of the boys had told about the varsity football coach.