Jim Cooper braced himself for another show of Christmas cheer. “How ya doin’? Getting together with the family? We’ve got Christmas Eve supper, breakfast with Santa, brunch at the Club, dinner with the clan, caroling, open house, a tree trimming… Continue Reading
Mom was way into Santa. But I always found the red suit, flushed pigmentation, and overall jolliness a bit creepy. Not to mention the standing invitation for strangers to sit on his lap. When I argued that he couldn’t possibly… Continue Reading
Alfred and Eldrid crept down the chimney, their tiny bodies moving easily in the cramped space. Hanging upside down, the elves scanned the living room for traps. As members of Santa’s Legendary Elite Investigative Getaway Helpers, or S.L.E.I.G.H. for short,… Continue Reading
I had been prayin’ for the role of Mary in the church Christmas pageant. I had a hankerin’ for Mervyn Swank who was playin’ Joseph. But Georgette Raymond, who was my sworn rival on all things artful, got the part.… Continue Reading
Uncle Barney had Brillo-y hair he dyed a yellow that isn’t found in nature and a matching handlebar mustache he waxed and curled and kept touching with such fondness that people sometimes looked away. Aunt Myrtle said if he’d spent… Continue Reading
I hated Christmas. “The elf did it,” Rudolph said before he spat a glob of tobacco juice into one of Mall of America’s promenade trashcans. Dark brown liquid splattered his faux fur. The combined scent of Red Man and dark… Continue Reading
December, 1963 The Etch A Sketch nearly passed through Martin’s hands without a second glance, but his neighbor jabbed him with an elbow. Martin froze at the image of the starburst drawn in grey plastic. “It’s Aaron,” his neighbor, Sanjeet,… Continue Reading
Christmas Eve. I’m in my car, trying to sleep, when the sound of Karen Carpenter singing makes me sit up. I unzip my sleeping bag, wipe condensation from the windscreen and there she is, standing under a streetlight, not thirty… Continue Reading
Tree sap popped inside the fireplace. Head slumped in a sagging recliner as old and rumpled as himself, Nathan Fletcher’s mind fixed on another Christmas. “Evening in Paris,” he muttered. “What, Grandpa?” Bailey’s thumbs skipped atop a pink Game Boy.… Continue Reading
The little Angel sat on a sturdy branch half way up the biggest tree in the little wood — despondent. The persistent rain drizzled down the back of her best white gown. She hated rain — it made her wings… Continue Reading