I’ve been writing Christmas stories for… well, a while now. This is the first year I’ve not written one… well, that’s not true. I did, but it’s dark and I don’t like it much. (It’s a horror story, and not well done.) So I’m going to leave you with links to the other things I’ve written … and a transcription of the very first Christmas story I wrote that’s not appeared on the web before. And after this, I’m off for a few days (save for a weekly 100 word story next week). Have a great holiday season!
- Christmas I – Who needs commercialism?
- Christmas II – “Halloo and Happy Holidays,” said Pooh Bear
- Christmas III – It doesn’t feel like Christmas
- Christmas IV – Darn it all to socks
- Christmas V – ghosts of Christmas present, past, and more past
- Christmas VI – Tis The Season To Be… (in this year’s Spec The Halls contest)
He scrunches down into his covers, squirmy worm finding his home, exaggeratedly shut eyes pulling a laugh from my throat as I kiss his forehead.
“G’night kiddo,” quickly corrected to “Good night, Daddy,” extracting a deep ho-ho-ing as I turn off his light.
Even as I shut the door to his room, I feel the white whiskers begin to grow. Loosening my belt (suddenly a thick leather band against improbably red cloth, barely holding in an astonishingly jelly-like belly), I head for the fireplace, placing my finger against my nose…