Drabble Wednesday: Christmas Fun

Today on Drabble Wednesday I celebrate the Christmas season… strangely. I have some new drabbles and two old favourites of mine. Enjoy, and Happy Holidays!

The Tree

Every year.

Every year they erect the garish, smelly thing.

With its scent of evergreen assaulting my nose, and its blinking lights disturbing nap time. Not to mention it’s a giant scratching post. And those dangly ornaments.

It’s like they dare me.

It’s not as if they tuck it in corner. No, it’s in the MIDDLE OF THE ROOM. IN THE WAY. What am I supposed to do, walk around the monstrosity?

I think not.

So why do they get mad when I pounce? Oh, the language I hear.

Truly, it’s their fault.

What else is a cat to do?

~*~

Naughty List

Cheesecake and Snickerdoodle waited in the shadow of the Christmas tree, tails wagging in anticipation. The two terriers knew Santa was coming; their namesake treats lay on a plate next to a tall glass of milk. They missed their shot last year, falling asleep too soon, but this year would be different.

Yes, this year had success written all over it, and a place in the dog hall of fame. They’d sink their chompers into Santa, maybe get a piece of Santa’s rump, complete with a velvet souvenir.

They both knew it would be epic. Even better than the postman.

~*~

Christmas Wars

Jingles the reindeer found the crumpled corpse under the Christmas tree, missing a hand. He pawed the body, but it was too late.

“Why? Why? Who would do this awful thing to the Elf on the Shelf?”

“A great disturbance, I sense.”

A tiny wizened green creature appeared from beneath the holiday foliage. In his hands he carried the Elf’s missing appendage and a shiny cylindrical object. He stared at the deceased Elf.

“Teaching him, I was. Listen, he did not. Defeated not the enemy, failed did he.”

A laugh rang out. “He underestimated the power of the dark side.”

~*~

A Fairy Tale Christmas Story

Once upon a time, far from the land of BB guns, there was me, Rutherford B. Hasenpheffer, and like all boys (aged 6-12) I had a Christmas wish. I wanted a dragon (yes, you heard me, a dragon). One legendary, fire-breathing, winged lizard.

I badgered my parents night and day for a year, following them around the castle, begging for a dragon.

“No,” they said. Repeatedly. Consistently.

But I persisted, until somewhere around November they relented. So I found a baby dragon under the Christmas tree.

The only problem—the darn beast burned down the castle and now we’re homeless.

~*~

Christmas Eve

Lights glow from the Christmas tree, softly reflecting through the windowpane frost. The faint scent of pine and undertone hints of mulled wine imbue the room.  Ribbons and bows and papered packages await the morning, while from somewhere above a snore or two drifts downstairs.

Everyone sleeps, pretty dreams and wonders in their heads, waiting in slumber for the morrow.  All is calm and quiet. At least inside. If you listen, really listen, while as the snowflakes fall outside, you can hear. Sprinkled with the moonlight, there’s the jingling of bells and jolly laughter with a hearty, ho, ho, ho…

© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved

Drabble Wednesday: Christmas Eve

Here’s the Christmas Eve edition of Drabble Wednesday, with three holiday stories full of wacky Christmas cheer…

Santa Got Pulled Over By A Policeman

(In Canada)

A red and white blur sped past the cop in the parked cruiser. The officer plunked his Tim Horton’s coffee in the cup holder, flicked on the lights and sirens, and gave chase to the speeder. Within minutes, he had the offender pulled over.

“You know you were going 70 in a 50 kilometre zone, right?”

“Ho, ho, ho!”

“Plus, I’ll have to write you a citation for operating, uh, a sleigh without a valid license.”

“Ho, ho, ho! Oh no!”

"And I’m going to have to give that—that reindeer with the red nose a breathalyser test.”

“Merry Christmas!”

Christmas Wars

Jingles the reindeer found the crumpled corpse under the Christmas tree, missing a hand. He pawed the body, but it was too late.

“Why? Why? Who would do this awful thing to the Elf on the Shelf?”

“A great disturbance, I sense.”

A tiny wizened green creature appeared from beneath the holiday foliage. In his hands he carried the Elf’s missing appendage and a shiny cylindrical object. He stared at the deceased Elf.

“Teaching him, I was. Listen, he did not.  Defeated not the enemy, failed did he.”

A laugh rang out. “He underestimated the power of the dark side.”

The Magic of Gifting

I nudged the wrapped gift with my toe, half expecting something to pop out. You might think that’s paranoid, but after the gerbil incident I don’t trust strange presents left on my doorstep. Especially when they’re packaged in snowman paper and topped with frilly pink bows. I thought about leaving it, but that might endanger the neighbourhood.

I lifted it gingerly by the gaudy bow, carried it indoors and opened it carefully, the fire extinguisher handy.  I gasped. Inside lay a hideous rubber chicken.

He wouldn't. Not the Fiendish Chicken of Severus Snape.

Drat Harry Potter and his Christmas pranks.

Note:

Unfortunately, no one entered last week’s contest to win a free book, 

so I have no winners to announce.

Christmas Lites III Release Day

Today’s the official release of the Christmas Lites III charity anthology. Twenty-one authors have come together in the spirit of the season and written a creative Christmas themed book for your enjoyment. And the best part is the all the proceeds go to help the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence.

Here’s the blurb and a list of the authors in the anthology:

The Christmas season is upon us yet again. Yes, my friends, it is a time of giving, loving, and sharing. Within these pages is a way you can help many people desperately in need of love, support, and goodness: the victims of domestic crime. By purchasing this anthology, you are sending every last dime made off this book to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence. The NCADV is an amazing charity that saves these people and lets them know there is still hope, still goodness, and still a reason to carry on.

Twenty-one authors have joined in this year, giving their time and their stories to these people – and to you. We all hope you enjoy our holiday tales captured in bite-size pieces. Whether you read this on the bus, before bed, or snuggled by the fire, please, do read – and share.

Anthology Authors:

Addison Moore

A.F. Stewart

Amy Eye

Angela Yuriko Smith

Ben Warden

Cassie McCown

Elizabeth Evans

J.A. Clement

JG Faherty

Jonathan Tidball

M.L. Sherwood

Monica La Porta

Ottilie Weber

Patrick Freivald

Phil Cantrill

Robert Gray

Ron C. Neito

S. Patrick Pothier

Tricia Kristufek

Vered Ehsani

*Brandon Eye bonus story

Editor/compiler: Amy Eye of The Eyes for Editing

Cover Design Kyra Smith

Link to the charity: www.ncadv.org

As you can see I'm one of the authors and my story, Once Upon a Christmas Eve, is a strange Victorian tale of Christmas in the village of Westerly. The story features Ginny Peabody and her family as they attempt to make through another Christmas season.

Christmas is coming to Westerly, and the Peabody family are preparing for the holiday. Wrapping presents, baking cookies, staying cheerful… because bad things can happen if they don’t.

The town of Westerly always celebrates Christmas… or suffers the consequences.

I hope you’ll check out the book, and my story, as well as the tales from the other talented authors featured in this anthology.

Christmas Lites III is available on Amazon and Smashwords.

Steampunk Santa

A short Christmas Eve tale...

Steampunk Santa

Once Upon a Christmas Eve, way up at the North Pole, nestled in the snow, sprawled Santa’s Village. Now if you think, from all the sweet tales that have been spun, that this place was a place of dreams, made of gingerbread and sugar plums, you would be wrong.

No, the settlement that housed Old St. Nick and his industrious band of elves was a home of iron and clockwork, of brass and gears, with the hiss of steam and the clash of metal echoing through its halls. Yes, that’s right, 'twas a Steampunk Night Before Christmas.

There’s the toy factory, with its assembly lines of workers, run by giant cogs and gears and pulleys, and a sputtering, puffing engine -fed by coal- powering the whole works. The elves wear goggles, leather gloves and aprons, over natty suits, clanging and banging as they make the toys.

Outside is Santa’s sleigh, packed with those playthings, belching smoke and vapour from its pipes and valves. The air is alive with its noise, a droning snarl announcing its presence as the coal-powered engine produces steam and fires on all pistons. In front are harnessed the reindeer, all nine wondrous beasts of iron, marvels of mechanized automatons. From Prancer to Rudolph with his illuminated nose, they stand eager to fly, rocket packs at the ready.

And here comes St. Nick, dressed in red leather and black boots, his long coat sweeping the top of the snow. His goggles are perched atop his head, his pipe in mouth, and his pistol on his hip. He climbs in his sleigh and snaps the reins. With a grind of gears and a roar of flame they are away into flight.

Merry Christmas to All and to All a Good Night!