Miserable Monday morning. Two and a half hour commute to work due to motorway hold ups. Solution? Write a ridiculous story for Dan Alatorre’s festive themed Flash Fiction Challenge, which can be found here:
The main rules are – using a random number generator, write something based on a selection of scenes and prompts Dan provided. I got the scene: ‘A child walking in on mom and dad the night before Christmas’, using the keyword ‘Santa’. I wrote this in about thirty minutes today as way of distracting myself from the awful journey, so please don’t expect too much from it!
A savage wind whipped sleet against the window of Barry’s bedroom, howling and groaning through the gaps in his walls. He couldn’t sleep with such noise going on, besides, in only a few hours time Christmas Day would be here and he didn’t want to miss the chance to see Santa delivering all the wonderful gifts requested on his Christmas list. Sitting upright in his bed, Barry pondered on how the big man would get into the living room, with there being no chimney for Santa utilise. He certainly wouldn’t be able to slide in through the air conditioning unit or the radiators, would he? Was Santa capable of osmosis perhaps? Maybe he just had a master key and would let himself in through the back gate the same way Barry did.
These questions bounced around Barry’s mind as he stared out of the window, wishing the sleet would turn into snow. He would have loved to make a snowman, a friend. The wind was becoming ever more violent and the groans Barry could hear were being accompanied by loud, repetitive bangs. It almost sounded like he could hear shouts and screams, but he just put this down to his over active imagination.
There was nothing else for it, Barry had waited long enough. It was time to go wake up mom and dad.
Swinging his legs out of bed and attempting to squeeze his feet into reindeer slippers that were now far too small for him, Barry began to patter slowly towards his parents’ bedroom door. With each tip-toed step, the strange noises created by the wind outside began to get louder and louder – Groan! Shout! Bang! All of the noises simply stiffened Barry’s resolve and convinced him that waking up mom and dad was definitely the right thing to do.
He reached out his pyjama covered arm and silently turned the handle, with only the slightest creak being made as the door sneaked open. Suddenly the groans, shouts and bangs became deafening, as Barry looked up and saw his mother lay on her back on the bed, with a man dressed in red and white bouncing up and down on top of her.
“Mom…? Santa…? What are you doing to mom, Santa?” He cried out, dropping his comfort blanket to the floor.
The two on the bed stopped what they were doing immediately, the man turning his red, angry face towards Barry. It was Barry’s elderly father dressed in a Santa costume. Distraught, tears began to well up in Barry’s eyes.
“Damn it Barry!” Raged his mother. “I’m going to take that spare key off you once and for all! You’ve got to stop getting so drunk and letting yourself in our house. You’re thirty two years old! Get home to your wife and we’ll see you for dinner tomorrow.”