I waited up for him long as I could, but I was only seven. My sister come as promised and got me up just after midnight. “Is he here?” I asked.
“Let’s go see for ourselves,” she said and led me into the living room where we hid ourselves behind the credenza
Pretty soon, Da came in carrying pieces of a bicycle. He tried to put it together, having no luck on account of he was drunk.
Ma started belabouring him and then they fell to fighting over the pieces, swallowing drinks between.
“That’s him,” says my sister. “That’s Santa.”
What a heartbreak, brought tears to my eyes.
Drunk Santa better than no Santa, right? Loved the imagery of the dysfunctional family.
Oh dear. That’s too sad.
Well written, though.
Oh, that was very vivid and powerful! Well done.
Susan A Eames at
Travel, Fiction and Photos
A worldly-wise sister. You make the best of whay you’ve got.?
Oh my God. Now I’m really sad 🙁
Packs a punch in so few words.
What a sad way to find out. A poignant piece indeed
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You seem to have captured the voice of the narrator exactly. It’s really well done. In a grim sort of way this scene is hilarious!
Sadly, it’s reality for way too many children, who grow up with a cynical outlook on Christmas.
That’s sad in so many ways… and a sad reality for many