Have you ever wondered how you would react if you met the real Santa Claus?
Take a few minutes and read this flash fiction I wrote several years ago.
Let me know what you think? If you like it, I can post more flash fiction from time to time.
Amber Daley smiled at the man beside her in the elevator. Chubby face, long gray beard, about seventy. Before she could say hello, the elevator lurched then came to a screeching stop. Amber squealed as the emergency lights wrapped them in a soft glow.
“Not now!” She pulled out her cell phone and dialed the posted emergency number then held the phone out so her companion could hear.
“The City has experienced a massive power failure. We’re sending crews to rescue people from the elevators. Please remain calm. We’ll be there as soon as possible.”
Amber swiped the phone. “Probably the same message they used during last year’s blackout.”
“Were you trapped last year too?” The man raised his bushy brows.
“No, but I heard stories.”
“I hope they reach us soon.” He released a peppermint-scented breath. “This is a big night for me.”
“Me too. I never should’ve worked late on Christmas Eve. By the way, my name’s Amber.”
Amber paced the small enclosure. “My boyfriend has planned a romantic dinner. I think he’s going to pop the question.”
“That’s wonderful.” Kris smiled, bringing dimples to his chubby cheeks.
“Not really. I don’t know what I’m going to say. Scott’s wife died three years ago, and he has two young children.”
“You don’t like the children?”
“I love the children.” Amber backed into a corner, trapped in a modern dungeon. “I’m not good mother material. I faint at the sight of blood, can’t stand the smell of vomit.” She tugged on a knot in one of her tangled curls. “I’m going to hyperventilate.”
“Take a few deep breaths. Perhaps you’re stuck in this elevator to give you time to think about your decision.”
“Maybe God is trying to tell me something?”
Kris nodded. “Do you love Scott?”
“Very much.” Amber smiled as she pictured Scott’s blue eyes and square jaw. “But, what if I’m a lousy wife, we get divorced, and I never see the children again?”
Kris pursed his bowtie lips. “Love is the most important requirement for a wife and mother. You have that.”
Was Kris right? She always focused on the negative.
“I must get out of here.” Kris frowned. “I have important deliveries to make tonight.”
A shiver of guilt washed over her. Thinking only about herself again. “You’re a delivery man?”
“Not exactly.” Kris stepped toward her. “The elves have worked so hard this year. The children will be heartbroken.”
“Sounds like you’re Santa Claus.”
Amber dug in her purse for some type of weapon. “I thought I was the only crazy person in this elevator.” She pulled out a small spray bottle of perfume and pointed it at the man.
At least he’ll smell nice while he strangles me.
Kris held his hands out. “Please call Scott’s children and ask them to go to the door and shout for Elf Winkle. They should tell him that Santa is stuck in an elevator at Evans’ department store. He’ll come rescue me.”
“How can this elf hear the children?”
Have I totally flipped?
“Elf Winkle always hears children.”
“If I tell the children I’m trapped in an elevator with Santa Claus, they’ll think I’m crazy.” She shook her head. “No, they won’t. They believe in you.”
“You’ll be their hero,” Kris whispered. “Please, Amber, you don’t want to ruin Christmas morning for millions of children, do you?”
Amber sighed, retrieved her cell, and made the call. They waited in silence.
Soon a sound like bacon frying in a pan filled the elevator. Amber looked up as the top peeled back and a man with pointy ears, and a wrinkled face smiled at them.
“H-how did he get through the roof and elevator?”
“Magic,” Kris said. “You’d be surprised how many houses don’t have chimneys. I have to improvise.”
Kris grabbed a shiny green rope and tied it around his waist. The elf pulled him up. “Say ‘Yes’ to your young man. You’ll be a great wife and mother.”
“Thanks, Kris. I believe you’re right.”
“Merry Christmas!” Kris touched his nose and floated through the top of the elevator.
“Merry Christmas.” Amber waved. “Wait Santa. You forgot my list.”
By: Sharon Rene – A Flash of Romance, 2017
Available on Amazon
This Post Has 2 Comments
Interesting story..why didn’t kris/Santa offer her a way out as well? If I was allowed to ask Santa a question I’d ask him about the naughty list in comparison to earlier generations. And what happened to previous naughty listers. Did they keep track or is it like once you’re on that list there is no hope of getting off it the following year?
Please excuse my cynicism, weird rabbit hole I just stumbled upon and not sure why or how I found myself here.
Those are all great questions. Unfortunately, in flash fiction I had to limit it to 1,000 words. LOL
Thanks for reading the story. I appreciate you stopping by my blog.