‘The Haunted Ghost: a Christmas Story’ by JJ Lee

Five o’clock on Christmas Eve, Cath and Clare shoo out the last-minute shoppers. It always annoys the customers of Burrard Books.

“But most stores stay open until six.”

“I know, I know,” apologizes Clare. “We used to. But not anymore.” Clare doesn’t explain why. She guides them to the door and locks it.

Napkins and paper cups are scattered everywhere. Since 1957, the year it opened, Burrard Books has always served shortbread and cider on Christmas Eve. It’s a good tradition, and Clare happily tidies the shelves and display tables.

Cath sums up the sales. “Less than last year.”

Three months from now, at the end of the fiscal, they’ll close the shop forever. Cath sighs. She puts on a red scarf and looks out the storefront window. It’s snowing.

Clare rummages through the drawer under the register. She finds CC’s old reading glasses and sets them on the counter.

Cath is impatient. “Do you really have to do that?”

Clare’s face turns solemn. “Yes.” Like the shortbread and cider. It’s tradition. Next to CC’s glasses, Clare places a book bound in red Moroccan leather with gold foil decoration. “It’s so beautiful.” She says this every year because it is.

Cath turns out the lights, but Clare leaves a small brass desk lamp lit on the counter. Before the pair go out the door, they call into the darkened bookstore. “Merry Christmas, CC.”