Novel & Cerita Year Without A Santa Claus Mother Nature

"Yeah, you loved the animals, but you hated the countryside. I mean, sure, we could come visit the countryside during the year when your father isn't back there. We can make some sort of arrangement, but Christmas? Christmas is our thing..." "Yeah... yeah it is," I cleared my throat dramatically. "But it's really beautiful this time of the year, Mom. It won't be the same all year round." Colton reached for the zipper at the back of my dress, his eyes locked on mine. He pulled it down, the fabric falling to my waist to reveal I wasn't wearing a bra, either. He groaned softly, cupping my breasts and kneading the heavy weight of them before dipping his head to take a taut pink nipple into his m

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.

At least she would not have nothing to do as the new year approached. It was no wonder the top executives in the company had seemed so cheerful lately. The new year was coming, and the holidays were approaching. Everyone was preparing for the festivities. “I understand.” She hung up the phone and looked out at the heavy snow, struggling to recall the last meaningful New Year's she had celebrated. When her father was still alive, her return home for the new year always resulted in ridicule from Susan. Thus, she often found excuses to stay at school for remedial classes.

“Selena, you’re here so early too? Huh? Why didn’t Ethan come with you?” After the holidays, Katherine looked noticeably worn down. Her mother worked for the Reed family and stayed busy even during the holidays, so she spent the New Year entirely on her own. A quiet holiday alone was simple, but it also felt lonely and bleak. Her father called and demanded a large holiday transfer, so she sent him a thousand. He complained that it wasn’t enough and scolded her until she cried on New Year’s Eve. He refused to listen to her explanation. All he wanted was money, with no interest in reason.

"Um... I made a list..." She pulled out her cellphone and narrated the list to him. "Christmas tree, bells, reindeer, candles, candy canes, garland, stockings, wreaths, snow globes, and angels---" He chuckled. "Oof, you're going hard with this Christmas stuff" Hannah smiled solemnly. "It's the first Christmas dad and I are spending together after mom's death. He was never home on Christmas..." "I didn't mean it---" "And why aren't you all pumped up for Christmas? You're the mayor, don't you have a town to celebrate Christmas with."

He was still pretty mad about that and mentioned it at every opportunity he got. “Christmas is tomorrow, and we have not a single gift under our tree,” I mused out loud. This was first Christmas I was having without any presents. Usually, the gift giving started on the very first day of the month and my mother always managed to give something better than what she presented the previous day. This year, nothing like that had happened on December 1st, and while I completely understood the situation surrounding her inability to keep to tradition, I would say I was surprised she hadn’t already sent me my gift yet.

But tonight, exhaustion mixed with a restless heat low in her belly, making her shift uncomfortably. "Dory, still at it? The reindeer need their rest, and so do you." Santa's voice boomed from the doorway, warm and gravelly, like a hearth fire. At 50-something in appearance but timeless in spirit, Nicholas Claus filled the frame, broad-shouldered, belly rounded from centuries of cookies, his white beard trimmed neat, eyes twinkling with that knowing glint. He wasn't the jolly myth; he was real, weary from the endless rush, shoulders carrying the weight of a world's wishes.

I said nonchalantly and Nanny Agatha frowns, “Isn’t he too old to marry a young beautiful girl?” “No Nanny! Santa Clause is not old! He is young. He never gets old. He has told me.” After pausing for a minute I ask Nanny Agatha, “Tell me Nanny Agatha, if Santa grows old then why his pictures of this year shows the same Santa as few years back?”

Parker exclaimed. “But how is that possible?” Ryder demanded, “he can’t be a different person every year, can he?” “Actually he can.” Paisley corrected, “Daddy explained it to me once. He said that Santa is so busy in the North Pole getting ready for Christmas, that he just doesn’ have the time to visit every city in the world aforehand to find out what everyone wants, or even to read all the letters on his own. So he has thousands of helpers who go out and collect the letters and dress up like him to find out what pups want for Christmas!”

“I really don’t want to lose my head.” “Yeah,” the second lady agreed. “But it would have been very nice if we celebrated Christmas this year.” “Hmmm. You know that is not possible, right?” “Nothing is impossible,” she said again. “Who knows? Santa might visit this year and decide to heal the Alpha’s wounded heart, and he would let us celebrate Christmas this year.” The other ladies told her to stop dreaming, as it would never come true. “Bad kid,” the new lady said, her voice carrying a pitying undertone. “His mother died on Christmas Eve, so it is understandable that he hates Christmas and everything that comes with it. Celebrating Christmas or not doesn’t make him less of a kind Alpha.”