Winter

Louis took a deep breath in through his nostrils, "Can you feel it?"

"Feel what?" Hannah replied, shivering.

"That winter air! Isn't it great?"

"You mean the biting cold? The wind that blows straight through you no matter how many layers you're wearing?"

"The delightful monochromatic ambiance," Louis continued, "The absolute stillness of the landscape."

"The gloomy, dreary sameness of it all?" Hannah retorted. "The strange sensation that nothing is alive and never will be again? The lingering doubt of your own mortality?"

"The long evenings! Hot chocolate by a roaring fire!"

"Limited daylight! Vitamin D deficiencies! Frostbite!"

"Snow," Louis smiled.

Theodore

"Every day is the same," Theodore says with an apathetic sigh, "Nothing interesting ever happens."

Two kung fu masters fly through a window behind him. Glass pieces rain to the floor. A battle of battles is waged to Theodore's backside. He does not notice.

"My life is just one dull series of events leading to more dull series of events," Theodore picks at his teeth.

From multiple directions, the kung fu masters are surrounded by ninjas. They form a temporary alliance to deal with the new threat. This all happens outside of Theodore's scope of vision.

"Bored out of my mind!"

The Pain Cuts Deep

"How about we watch A Knight's Tale tonight? I liked that movie," Annette says.

"No, we can't watch that," Paige says, "The main character is dead. It's just too painful to watch. Why don't we watch This Is It instead?"

"He's dead, too!" I cry. "We can't watch that, either!"

"What about Clueless? We could watch that!" Adam suggests.

"Brittany Murphy's dead, too!" Dana laments.

"I know," I say, "How about we watch old OxiClean infomercials?"

The entire group wails in agony.

"I had to throw out three tubs of the stuff," Ron says, "It reminded me too much of him!"

Reason for the Season

The young Macphersons swarmed the Christmas tree like locusts on a ripe field. They greedily snatched at presents without regard for anyone or anything.

"Hold it right there," said Mama Macpherson, "You youngins have forgotten the reason for the season!"

"Sorry, Ma," the Macpherson kids said in unison.

"Why dontcha sing a Christmas carol, and think about who gave you those presents."

A melancholy verse rose in the living room:

Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday, Baby Jesus.
Happy birthday to you!

Mama Macpherson wiped a single tear from her eye, "That's what Christmas is all about!"

The Year Santa Stole Christmas- Part 5

Gifutoman was waiting for Santa on the summit of Mount Fuji.

"Your reign ends now, Gifutoman!" Santa said. "I'm canceling Christmas!"

"You cannot cancel Christmas," Gifutoman said in the English dub (supposedly Gifutoman is better with the Japanese voice and English subtitles), "Only with rampant materialism can we recover from this worldwide recession." Gifutoman shot rockets from his elbows.

Santa dodged. "What about charity and goodwill toward men?" Santa said as he pummeled Gifutoman into submission.

The children of the world woke up to stockings full of coal, and developed a cynical spirit that followed them the rest of their lives.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

The Year Santa Stole Christmas- Part 4

"There is only one solution," Santa's voice carried with it a stoic steadiness that it never really had before. The laughter had ended. His belly was rock candy hard with conviction. "Every child is on the naughty list this year."

"You can't put every child on the naughty list!" Jangle the elf protested, "That's— that's—"

"—the truth," Santa said, the twinkle now gone from his eye, "If children are so consumed with material things, then they will be better off if Christmas just didn't come this year."

"What about Gifutoman?" Jangle asked.

"I'll take care of Gifutoman," Santa narrowed his eyes.

To be concluded . . .

The Year Santa Stole Christmas- Part 3

Gifutoman!
You are number one best!
Gifutoman!
Give us gifts!
It is now the Christmas time!
Peace on Earth and fighting crime!
Gifutoman!

Santa watched with horror as the Christmas special, Gifutoman Super Kurisumasu GX's theme song played on the television. "This is horrible! It's consumerism at its worst! This isn't what Christmas is supposed to be about at all!"

Jangle the elf mumbled, "You know, you're partly to blame, Santa."

"What? No! How?"

"Your focus on presents just made the children eager for more. And Gifutoman just gives out presents indiscriminately regardless of behavior. Can you really blame the children?"

To be continued . . .

The Year Santa Stole Christmas- Part 2

Gifutoman had taken the world by storm. Children everywhere had abandoned Santa Claus for the sleek new Japanese character that brought gifts to children on Christmas and then battled gigantic robotic dinosaurs from the future.

"Gifutoman Super Kurisumasu GX has completely replaced all of the classic Christmas standards: Rudolph, Frosty, Shrek the Halls," Jangle listed.

Santa pounded his plump fist on his desk, "Not Shrek the Halls!"

"Kids just love the anime Japanese stuff nowadays," Jangle said, "It was a matter of time."

"No!" Santa's cheeks reddened like roses . . . angry roses. "I refuse to be ousted by a cheap Japanese knock-off!"

To be continued . . .

The Year Santa Stole Christmas- Part 1

Jangle the elf approached the desk of his employer, the fat man himself, Santa Claus.

"Weren't you supposed to bring the mail?" Santa asked Jangle with a befuddled look.

"I did," with that Jangle handed Santa three envelopes, two of which were bills.

"What's this?" Santa gasped, "It's nearly Christmas and I only received one letter?" He quickly opened it and read it aloud: "'Dear Santa, I've already asked Gifutoman what I wanted for Christmas, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to cover my bases. I want a Red Ryder—' Gifutoman? What's a Gifutoman?"

"The Japanese version of you," Jangle explained.

To be continued . . .

One Sentence Story Collection XIII

As Cassie awoke from her eighteen month space journey in hyper-stasis, she realized she had forgotten to pack underwear.

She swore by the healing power of formaldehyde, just not for very long.

Calvin set up the bear-tra— err... Santa-containment-unit beside the milk and cookies.

After a long day, he finally fell asleep.

Snowie the Snowman

"Rats!" Jose grumbled. Hats, gloves, scarves, coats, and all other sorts of clothing and accessories were strewn about the snow around him and his snowman.

"What are you doing?" Jose's mother rushed out of the house, "What's with all those clothes?"

"I'm trying to bring Snowie to life," Jose said matter of factly.

"Snowie?"

"The snowman."

"Where would you get an idea like that?"

"The song, Mom," Jose said, "Frosty was brought to by an old silk hat that ha latent magical properties. I figured that you and dad would have at least one magical item between the both of you."

Christmas Yet to Come

"Show me the shadows of a Christmas Yet to Come, Spirit," Scrooge cowered before the imposing ghost.

In an instant Ebenezer was standing in the midst of a large hall much like the London marketplaces, but enclosed. Scrooge turned to see two grown women fighting over a small children's toy. In the opposite direction a small child cried on the lap of a slob in a fake beard and stained clothing. Cheesy music played incessantly, echoing in Scrooge's throbbing brain.

"Spirit? Are these visions of what will be, or merely the shadows of what may be? Spirit? I can change! Spirit!"

Holly

"This might sound strange," Holly said in almost a whisper, "but I think I love you."

There was no reply.

"I mean," Holly stuttered finding her words, "I-I-I like you, and I think we could be good together." She attempted a smile.

Still no reply.

Holly regrouped her thoughts, "It's just that we've been—" She started over, "I think that—" She started over again, "Look! Just kiss me. I love you!" Holly closed her eyes and imagined loving lips pressed against hers.

But there were no lips. There was no reply. Nothing.

Holly sighed and turned away from the bathroom mirror.

Forgiveness

I asked for forgiveness, but nothing happened up there on that hill. Someone told me that they felt closer to God up on a mountain. I can't say I felt closer to anything. That's probably because my mind was still miles and miles away.

Miles and miles away she was living her life the best she could, despite my involvement in it. I tried to apologize, but it never seemed to be enough. So I left. Partly to give her respite, and partly to find abatement for my soul.

I keep pressing on. Somewhere there is forgiveness. Somehow I will forget.

December

A thick fog covers the ground like a blanket, and obscures the winter sun. Just above freezing, a light misty rain can be felt but not seen. The unusually still air amplifies echoes of footfalls on cold pavement.

A crow caws on an empty tree that looks like the withered hand of a hundred-fingered skeleton. The landscape that was only days ago brightly colored in the hues of autumn has now all turned to varying shades of gray. It feels like a scene from a movie. You should be at a funeral or delivering some bad news. It is but December.

Truer Words Were Never Spoken

"Ever think about foregoing this bachelor lifestyle we're living and settle down?" Brian always had a way of making a car ride awkward.

"I choose to live my life based on the philosophy of the great thinkers," Kevin said, "In the immortal words of Canadian rock group, Loverboy: 'You want a piece of my heart? You better start from the start.'"

"Where else would someone start?"

"Don't you understand? It's one of those things that are so obvious that no one thinks to actually start from the start."

"Actually, I think most people start from the start."

Kevin fumed, "Shut up."

Buzkashi

It's a mad dash for the carcass. Five teams altogether. Maybe six. Maybe four. No one is quite sure, not even the referee who is more concerned about not getting trampled underhoof.

They used to use a goat carcass thousands of years ago when the game was first conceived. Now they opt for the more sensible headless calf carcass. It does not fall apart nearly as fast.

One of the younger riders falls and is severely injured. His buzkashi dreams have faded.

"Better a poor rider on a good horse, than a good rider on a poor horse," the crowd chants.

The Song

How long had it been since I heard that song? Five, six years? Time seemed to blur together into one big amalgamation. Small insignificant things separated the memories in my mind.

When last I heard this song, it was sung to me. She had eyes you would lose yourself in. She had a smile that would light up even the darkest heart. I know, because she lit up mine. She sang to me, and the song went on for eternity. It was still in my head.

Why had I let her go? Scared maybe? Scared that too much might go right.

The Fedora

"Hey, check out my new fedora! Now I'm all like Indiana Jones!" Lenard bit his bottom lip in childish excitement.

"Uh, yeah," Paul said, "The 1930's called. They want their fashion sense back."

"What? No. This is cool," Lenard said with desperation, "I'm cool."

"Denial ain't just a river in Egypt, Lenny boy," Paul smirked. Lenard hated it when Paul smirked.

"You know what, Paul? You're nothing more than a big meanie-face."

Paul just laughed.

"This fedora is cool, and one day you'll regret making fun of me!"

Twenty years later Paul wrote a letter to Lenard. "I'm sorry," it began.

Dragon

Dragon sat upon a throne of leather. Smothered sunlight filtered into the underground bunker from above.

Dragon was one of the few living who knew the world before the fire rained down. His beard was long and white, and the winkles in his face were carved out like cracks in granite walls.

"A child," Dragon croaked, "A rare sight in this dark age." He took thunderous steps toward Mouse and examined her as one would examine an animal. "Good teeth," he muttered.

Mouse noticed his teeth were not, but was too afraid to speak. Dragon's breath was like death and flame.

Hal

It was still dark when Hal set off. He had packed lightly, because he had few possessions. Staff in hand, he left the home of his master, and took the main highway that led to the port city in the west, and then to lands beyond.

At the peak of the last hill that overlooked the village, Hal turned back one last time just as the sun made appearance. In his mind Kali ran up the road, beautiful as ever, illuminated by the sunrise. They embraced, and journeyed on together.

But she did not come, and Hal walked the highway alone.

Todd

Todd ran the scenario over and over again in his head. Each time he found himself tripping over his words, being asked something he could not answer, or just making a general fool out of himself. He came to the decision that the least foolish thing to do would be to do nothing at all (though, also a foolish action). At least in that case no one else would know.

"Todd?" Mindy asked.

Todd looked at Mindy, but kept his lips sealed.

"We're waiting."

"I'll just come back when you're ready to order," the waitress said.

Dodged a bullet, Todd thought.

Eric's Journey of Enlightenment: Fear

Evening fell, but neither stars nor moon could be seen for a thick blanket of clouds loomed overhead.

KA-KARACKADOOM!

Light split the veil of darkness for a moment revealing the silhouette of a man standing before me.

"What is your greatest fear?" he asked.

Rain poured from the heavens as if all the waters of the earth had been gathered directly over top of us, and emptied all at once.

"Speak, traveler," the man demanded over the roar of the falling rain.

"I fear," I paused a moment, "I fear you," I said.

The man smiled and the storm passed over.

On the Ark

They had been adrift on The Sea (since there only was one sea now) for four months. When all of the games of I Spy that could be played had been played, the Noah family was at a loss as to what to do next.

"It is so stuffy in here," complained Japheth, "and the animals sure aren't smelling better on their own. Who designs a boat with only one window anyhow?"

"God does," Noah said curtly.

"Oh. Right."

Shem asked ironically, "Are we there yet?"

Seven sandals struck Shem's face in unison.

"Go and clean the weasel cages," Noah said.

Truck

Truck was a big man as his namesake implied with an equally big heart. Most men dropped all pretenses of dignity in the age after the bombs fell. To Truck that made them no better than the animals they named themselves after.

Truck had taken Mouse in as his own daughter after her parents died. He had not told her how it happened. Now he never would.

"Be strong, Mouse," he often told her, "This world only understands strength."

Mouse desperately wished that Truck was there. He was always strong. He would know what to do.

"Be strong, my little Mouse."

Alice

The walls were closing in on Alice. It was an imperceptible closing in, not like how it's portrayed in action movies. The day before each of the walls was exactly twenty-three foot-lengths, and now each was twenty-one. Alice could just barely touch the ceiling, which was completely out of reach, before.

It had occurred to Alice that she might be growing in size as the room stayed the same. For the moment, she was not sure if it mattered which was really happening.

She banged on the locked door in vain.

The next day her palm pressed flat against the ceiling.

The Flood

"I spy with my little eye something blue," Shem's wife said as they peered out the window of the ark.

"Water," the rest replied in unison.

"I am so bored," said Ham, "Why doesn't Japheth play us another song?"

"Because the last string on my lyre broke two weeks ago," explained Japheth, "and dad won't let me gut any of the cats to make more."

"We need them to repopulate the earth later," called Noah from the other side of the ark.

"Does the restored world really need cats?" Ham asked, "Because I am really dying for a song right now."

Experimenting with Boredom

Nameless faces passed by in a blur across the computer monitor.

"No. No. No," Thomas said while counting his arm hairs mentally (He was up to four hundred fifty-eight).

"Are you even paying attention?" Sasha's voice reverbed inside the wall-mounted intercom. "This experiment is half my grade, Tom."

"Yeah, that's great, Sash. No. No."

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Four hundred sixty-seven."

"What?"

"Oops. Sorry. Didn't mean to say that out loud."

Sasha opened the door into Thomas's room, "You're supposed to be watching the monitor!"

"I am!" said Thomas. "Oh, that's just wonderful."

"What?"

"You made me lose count!"