Very Short Christmas Stories Novels & Stories

His heart jolted back to life. He waited. She smiled at him. "Merry Christmas." Just a simple greeting. Not even "healthy" or "happy." His heart fell quiet again. He stood in the freezing wind and said, "Merry Christmas." THE END

Help. Hey everyone, I need help. Two days ago, my five-year-old sister said she saw Santa Claus in our house, but her description doesn't match the traditional image at all. She said this "Santa" had long, spider-like fingers, too many joints, crawled like a four-legged animal, and after climbing out of our chimney, it just stood silently in the corner of our living room, watching us for an hour. Most importantly, when I asked if this "Santa" had a gift sack, she said no. Just a lumpy, wrinkled, moving sack on its back.

Too many people have been hurt by what he's done. December 20th. This is my last entry. If something happens to me, if I don't make it out, please know I tried. Please know I'm not the perfect wife he'll claim I was. I was scared and trapped and I fought back the only way I knew how. He will tell everyone we were happy. Don't believe him. Don't let him rewrite our story. The truth is in the files hidden at my mother's storage unit, locker 247. The truth will destroy him. And he knows it. The journal ends there. Five days before Christmas Eve. Five days before the accident that stole my memory and trapped me here.

I hated his guts for betraying me, but I couldn't find it in me to throw those letters away, so I kept them. We had this ritual where we'd write a letter to Santa asking for a gift. Of course we knew Santa wasn't real, but it was our thing. We'd sneak off when the other wasn't looking and check each other's letters and surprise each other with whatever we'd asked for. “I was right, Mommy, it is him,” Lucien said, looking from the photograph in his hand and back up to Ryan, before stopping at the last step as he stared at the picture and then at Ryan, who was now staring back at Lucien. He rushed to stand in front of Ryan, tilting his head back as he looked at the tall man, before raising his

I know it is a short chapter but I decided it is still Christmas and I wanted to give you all a little bonus. Have a lovely day More tomorrow Stay safe Love Peyton

Elijah hums. “He is. But the snowman does not give up. He learns that far into the woods, there’s a fairy who can grant any of his wishes. So he starts his journey into the woods. But behind those woods lie evil creatures. He fights those evil creatures and wins. Then he meets the fairy, who grants him his one true desire. To live with the sun without melting. So the snowman gets to be with the sun again and lives happily ever after.”

but not here. Richard listens to all this, his face intent, but he chuckles, shaking his head ruefully. "Yes, and last Christmas was no picnic either, was it? You three hunted by Klempner´s men and, well, getting my offices attacked and set on fire wasn´t exactly my first choice from Santa." He gives her a long look. "I imagine that Christmas when you were a child, in the Blessingmoors Home, was nothing to celebrate either?"

She reckoned that if Alex was there with him, he would definitely pick the same book. The story revolved around a stuffed rabbit sewn from velveteen. It was given as a Christmas present to a small boy. The boy plays with his other new presents and forgets the velveteen rabbit for a time. These presents are modern and mechanical, and they snub the old-fashioned velveteen rabbit. The wisest and oldest toy in the nursery, the Skin Horse, which was owned by the boy's uncle, tells the rabbit about toys magically becoming real due to love from children. The rabbit is awed by this idea, however, his chances of achieving this wish are slight.

I thought I was beginning to understand what my mom was always saying about it being better to give than receive. “Cadence! Your pajamas are upstairs in your room,” my mom said, as if she’d just realized what my sister was wearing. “Oh, that’s okay,” Cadence protested. Perhaps she didn’t want to wear her Christmas jammies in front of her coworker. “Now, come on Cadence. You know the rules. Christmas jammies for presents!” my mom insisted, and I thought back to that movie, A Christmas Story, where Ralphie has to put on those rabbit pajamas. I knew Cadence’s were the same as mine, though, red and green with reindeer heads. They weren’t so bad.