AnElephantCant hide his excitement and confusion
He looks forward but he also reminisces
He knows Santa will come
Even though he doesn’t have a lum*
So he wishes both his readers a very Merry Christmas
This is a weekly invitation to write a short piece of fiction (c. 150 words) based on a photo prompt (below) provided by Alastair.
Follow the link to see a pile of presents produced by seasonal scribes from Lapland to Lesmahagow.
But please read AnElephant’s decorative drivel first.
* Oh, lum is the Scots word for chimney
The text arrives just as he is leaving for his daily walk, his thinking time.
Feeling grim, it says, loaded with cold.
Not sure I am fit to even put up the decorations.
He is very susceptible to germs.
He cannot stand invalids.
He particularly dislikes runny noses and croaky throats.
And he is totally clueless with all this Christmas stuff.
Just cannot be bothered decorating trees, hanging baubles and bells and chains and things.
Fairies and angels, really?
And mistletoe, when she is all grotty like that?
But, he thinks, she doesn’t know I’ve seen this.
He can just ignore it and go.
By the time he returns and contacts her she will have it done.
Then she is not his problem.
He won’t have to make chicken soup and pretend to be caring.
He thinks about her nose, blocked and red, her eyes, heavy and rheumy, her cough, rasping, painful.
Sniffles, sneezes and snotters.
On my way, baby.