FlashFeeD 1.10

Hey, how’s things?

Any Christmas shopping left to do? If you’re like me, you’re normally more organised and are struggling with this whole “I’ve got loads of time left” approach to the looming deadline.

Pull up a chair. Grab a mince pie, and some mulled wine, obviously.

Fancy a festive prompt? I thought so.

Full rules here:

No specific fiction element rules this week – just have fun.

 

 

Stories will be limited to 2000 characters* (about 300 words), including the title.

*(The field itself will allow for 2050 characters, but this extra 50 characters is only to be used as contingency and it won't be increased).

Use the comment field to post stories, include your story title. Use the reply button on a particular story to provide positive feedback. Press the ‘like’ icon if you like a story.


 

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38 Replies to “FlashFeeD 1.10”

  1. I’m sitting here, in our dining room. My laptop is on the coffee table. It’s funny, I used not to like sitting on the floor, but now I do. Specially since we got that new carpet from Ikea two weeks ago.

    We have a strip of LED multicolor lights and a small white lighted polar sitting on the bench outside. We have lights inside, an old red-yellow-blue-green strip climbing up the stairs. And the tree sports its usual reds in varied patterns, highlighting the white and golden ornaments.

    There are two small trees, both with small shiny balls and jingle bells that the cat finds irresistible. Felt figures hang from every knob and key: boots, reindeers, Santas, penguins. Strips of wooden figures (who’s ever heard of Christmas foxes?) salute us when we climb up the stairs. Decorated boxes mimicking gifts lie everywhere. And my son’s collection of glass snowballs is distributed on shelves and cupboards.

    The first Christmas and New Year in our new home.

    I can’t wait.

    Like

    1. Great setting, a truly Christmassy atmosphere. I can remember the new home, sitting on the floor stage – no sofa, just a giant floor cushion!

      Like

  2. The girl stomped snow from her boots as she climbed the stone steps of the porch. She knocked on the door as hard as she could wearing fleece-lined leather mittens. Footsteps, then the door unlatched and creaked open.

    “Yes?” A plump lady with silver hair and a rosy smile greeted her. The girl grinned.

    “I’d like to see Mr. Claus,” she said. The lady chuckled.

    “Of course you do, my dear! Won’t you come in?”

    “No, that’s okay,” the girl replied, her smile disappearing. “I have some business to discuss. Better outside, I think.” The lady shrugged her shoulders.

    “If you insist. But it’s a mighty cold day. Not that we’re complaining. Nothing like a good chill to spur on the reindeer…” Her voice drifted as she disappeared into the house. A few moments later, a familiar figure appeared at the door.

    “Ho! Ho! Ho!” said Santa. “And what can I do for you?”

    “Let’s take a walk, please, Mr. Claus. I’ve come a long way, but this shouldn’t take long.”

    “Very well. What can I do for you… Anneka, isn’t it?”

    “Yes, it’s Anneka, Mr. Claus. Did you get my list?”

    “I did,” said Santa. “It was quite… um… extensive.”

    “But it won’t be a problem, right?”

    “Well… not everyone gets everything they want, you know.” Santa tried to smile.

    “But this time, that won’t be a problem.” Anneka stopped and took out her phone. She removed her gloves, swiped the screen a few times, then held it up for them both to see. Santa’s eyes nearly popped from his head.
    “Last year. You didn’t notice, but… I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus.”

    Santa grumbled. “Umm… yes… but…”

    “It’s simple, Mr. Claus. Everything on my list, or this picture goes to Mrs. Claus. Do we understand each other?”

    Santa grumbled.

    “I didn’t hear you, Mr. Claus.” Anneka glared at the old man. “Do we understand each other.”

    “Yes… umm…”

    Anneka pocketed her phone, put on her mittens, and walked away.

    “Merry Christmas,” she said without turning.

    Like

      1. Thanks, Irene! Isn’t she, though? You can almost hear her say, “Hey, Santa. I wanna make you offer you can’t refuse.” 😉

        Like

      1. Thanks, Alva! I have to admit, this was a fun one to write. In fact, the original version was a lot longer. I killed a lot of darlings to make it fit the FlashDogs word limit. I might post the “Director’s Cut” on my blog next week…

        Like

  3. Listening for the sounds of nothing Emma slips out of bed to her desk. She takes the prepositioned pencil and paper and gets to work.

    The clock reads 11:00. One hour, she thinks, I better hurry.

    Dear Santa,
    My name is Emma Carter. You probably don’t remember, but I met you last year. We even took a photo together which I have enclosed. I know I should have been sleeping, but I was too excited to see you.

    I have made a long list of wishes this year, but as this is the last year you will visit I wanted to ask for something that we won’t forget.

    Hearing footsteps down the hall she quickly finishes her letter, folds it, and sneaks downstairs. Cookie, milk, wish list- check.

    As quietly as he can, the man in the red suit glides to the tree and deposits the parcel that has been meticulously wrapped. Eat the cookie, drink the milk, read the wish list- check.

    Small, strong arms grab him around the waist. He turns to find a young girl holding him, tears in her eyes.

    “I will always remember,” he said.

    “I love you dad.”

    They stood there, holding each other, remembering.

    Like

  4. Alva Holland
    @Alva1206
    A Christmas Wish

    There once was a young girl called Melly
    Who wanted to be Santa’s Elfy.
    So she wrote to the Claus
    Said, please can you pause
    To visit a girl for a selfie.

    Like

  5. All I Want

    It was the biggest risk he’d taken that year. When you are forced to follow a different path, you do strange things. Cut yourself loose, climb mountains, jump out of planes. But this … this was something else.

    He could see her at the back of the queue, clutching her grandmother’s hand. Mechanically, he dealt with requests for iPads and iPhones, patted heads and smiled for selfies against the wintry backdrop. And then it was her. He busied himself for a moment, pulled his hood down, his bear up. The padding disguised his usual frame. The little girl climbed on his knee and offered him her letter.

    Dear Santa,
    Pleese let me see my Daddy
    Luv
    Emily
    PS I have been good
    xx

    “Wants an iPad does she?” asked her Nan.

    Daniel didn’t trust himself to speak. Just nodded and posed for the photo. He watched her go. Defying the courts had been dangerous but at least he had been able to grant one wish. He just hoped that when she looked at the picture, she would know …

    Like

  6. ——— DEAD SANTA——-

    “Let’s take a selfie for your mom and dad. Show them you’re unharmed. Say ‘cookies’.”

    Aria was a good girl and did as Santa told her. She wanted her parents to see how brave she is.

    Afterwards, she let her tears escape in great sobbing heaves. Santa hated it when she cried. He cursed and gave her a big candy cane to shut her up.

    Santa had kidnapped Aria from the mall, having lured her with his jolly “ho ho ho” and a candy cane. Aria knew about stranger danger but who would have suspected Santa?

    Jack, aka Santa Claus, was a disgruntled ex-employee from her parents’ software company who wanted revenge and figured he could get a good ransom for Aria. He hid her away in his deaf mother’s garage.

    Aria, only ten years old, knew she was smarter than Jack. She had a plan to escape. She just had to be patient and play his game awhile longer.

    Her chance came when he dozed off in a lawn chair. She had sucked the candy cane into a pointed sharp spike. She stabbed Jack in the neck with the candy cane. His eyes widened in shock as blood spurted in a colorful geyser.

    Killing video game zombies with her brothers had given her the necessary survival skills.

    Aria watched the life drain from Santa. Filled her pockets with dead Santa’s remaining stash of candy, then she walked home to have a Merry Christmas with her family.

    The end.

    Like

  7. Secret Santa

    Jessica couldn’t believe it. Christmas Day and it had snowed overnight, it was beautiful. It was perfect. It would be her first white Christmas, recent traditions involved rain and fog – not at all Dickensian.

    When she ran down the stairs she caught the big tree in the front room out of the corner of her eye. Something was wrong; the tree was perfect, the lights steadily flashing away and the silver angel on the top was looking down across the room, but there was something severely amiss with the room.

    There were no presents beneath the tree!

    Jessica confusedly circled the living room. The presents must have been placed somewhere else. If not under the tree where? Under the stairs, or behind the sofa, in the cupboards, or on them? She even ran out to the shed just in case Santa had put them in the wrong building. But there were no presents anywhere.

    She began to wonder if she’d not been as good a girl as she thought she had been. She’d tried to be good and she’d generally been excellent at it – much better than many of her friends.

    She sat by the fireplace wondering what had happened. Half an hour ago the snow had made her feel like it was a perfect Christmas. But now it was most definitely the worst. She needed some serious questions with her mum and dad, but it was only four thirty; maybe in an hour.

    As she contemplated what badness she may have forgotten the room was suddenly filled with noise coming from the fireplace. Yep, Santa dropped in right beside her. Snow, soot and all. Importantly the “all” included a sack full of presents.

    ‘Santa! You came!’

    Santa looked a bit sheepish.

    ‘Sorry, Jessica. You’re not supposed to see me. I’m running a bit late. You won’t tell anyone, will you?’

    ‘Have you bought an iPhone? That’s what I asked for.’

    Santa bellowed a deep resonating laugh.

    ‘Ho ho ho. You must have been VERY good.’

    ‘I wont tell anyone. But just one favour… may I have a selfie with you?’

    ‘Only if it remains your secret Santa selfie.’

    ‘Ho ho ho!’

    Like

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