All the family came—even Declan who’d treated his eighteenth birthday as a family holiday emancipation—and, despite advance grumbling about Bev’s vegan holiday meal, all ate well. Properly sated, they took possession of every sofa and loveseat cushion, the recliner, and the mixed chairs around the penny table. Lights were dimmed. The tradition film was started. Moved by the increasing rareness of these congregations, Bev took a moment of private appreciation: all whom she loved joined in the cozy dark of her living room, the television playing unwatched, every head down as if in prayer, each face lit by the mysterious glow of their own private screen.
M.C. Schmidt holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Miami University. He is the author of two novels and his recent short fiction has appeared in Litro, Every Day Fiction, Rumble Fish Quarterly, Dime Show Review, Cleaning Up Glitter, and The Books Smuggler’s Den. He has work forthcoming from Abstract Magazine.