ChristmasTales

Fantasy Year: 2978 “Woop woop!” Sapphire does an air pump with her human hand, jumping up. “It’s MAASS!” She taps on everyone’s doors with her bionic hand, causing an echo throughout each of their rooms. “Is that another crazy acronym for something?” Amethyst pushes the door open, rubbing her eyes sleepily. "Yes, and no." Sapphire appears before her, some of the others gathering behind her. "No, because it's the official name for this holy day, but also I made up an acronym

Contemporary Christmas Eve? Christmas Eve! Christmas Eve meant last-minute preparations. Christmas Eve meant last-minute shopping. Christmas Eve meant last-minute invites. Christmas Eve meant last-minute cooking. Christmas Eve meant last-minute hopes for what you'll get under the tree. And that's the short version. I could go on for hours! And so could Leon. But I won't bore you with my list, and I won't go through the one he prepared, because it'd take up all of our short ti

Fantasy I take my sword from where it leans against the wall before leaving the longhouse where I live. It's J ól again, meaning fires to light up and hearts to warm! Well, the lighting fires will be the easy part. Being a fire incarnate is not the best for your joyful attitude. Gary is outside my door, and he greets me with a grin. "Good day, Fire Lord." With my hand, I push against his chest playfully. "Good Day, Pathetic Servant." "How mean." He mocks with a pout. "How ann

Contemporary Ding dong. Ding dong. The clock strikes two. He sat on the uncomfortable church pew, staring at the altar, his little heart's beats eachoing through the empty room. His father stepped out "for some air", but the little boy knew it was so he wouldn't have to see his Father and role model cry. The boy's body was weak, so he winced as she shuffled on the hard seat. Each movement was too much, and the air froze around him. A magnificent portrait of the greatest man

Contemporary I, honestly, don't know what to write about peace. It is what it is, and you've heard all about it before. Whether it's you who was craving it, or you were annoying so badly that they were begging for it. Peace is silent. Peace is calm. But there are two types of peace. Victoria sat with the train station's bustle bouncing off her, as if she were immune. Maybe she was. There was a baby crying behind her, delays being announced above her, rain falling all around h

Fantasy? (Yes. That question mark is meant to be there.) Within the Advent candles, Joy is special. It's always a different colour. Hope, peace and love are always (or most of the time) purple. But Joy is always pink. Why is Joy 'special'? Magdalen knew better than anyone. She had experienced it first-hand, many years before, as a young girl. Think the early 2010s. A teenager, maybe 13 or 14. The least eager girl you’ve ever seen. Christmas, to her, was a time to get gifts, a

Contemporary "I am so impressed by all your donations. This is an incredible turnout. It's almost twice the amount we had last year!" As Miss finishes talking, I finally sit back down. Pens given back, register taken, dates written down, all the cards signed... I think that's everything. The five tables are brimming with gifts. Hairbrushes, lotion, fidgets, puzzle books, chocolate, hats, colouring pencils, you name it. It's amazing how 70 kids can give so much when the world

Contemporary They will be torn apart by a silly argument, spiralling from their childhood. Though they will have been close, a single thought will rip them part, sending them to different countries, so they'll never stumble upon each other again. It's a shame, really, because they will have had so much fun together. But their love will be blinded by childish grudges. Mrs Thorne will keep touch with her parents, who’ll be the best grandparents you could imagine. They’ll spoil

Contemporary Zih án wanders through the streets of the marketplace, staring at the flashing lights, holding her best friend's hand. They look fo r t he píngguǒ. Apples: the peace fruit. Zih án is one of the few who celebrate Christmas, though not so much from a religious point of view. In China, Christmas is more of an addition to the New Year, and not much of a celebration. It's a great time to sell stuff, though, as her Uncle does in their local area. There are hundreds of

Contemporary Scene 1: The School. Christmas Play. 2025 Daz, Tuck, Bob, and Wendy, along with the rest of their class, are shuffling onto the stage, ready for their annual Christmas Play. This is their last one, so they want to make sure it shines, but Bob is nervous that he'll forget his lines, and Daz is already embarrassed by his mum standing and cheering. Daz ducks behind Wendy, who has everyone's lines ready to prompt, in case something goes wrong. Wendy: Right! Let'

Contemporary My favourite part of Christmas might be blasting Christmas music at full volume and screaming the words at the top of my lungs. It's beautiful how you can get lost in the rhythm or ask anyone to finish the lyrics of a Christmas classic. And I love to play music. It's magical how I can tap my fingers on a piano or pluck the strings of a guitar and create a melody. Only those who love music will experience the frustrating joy and wonderful fury towards instruments

Contemporary. Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday School. Attend Bob's school play. Go to London!!!!! Visit Tina's Christmas concert. Holiday! Drop Millie off at swimming. Hand in long-overdue history project. Pack for holiday. Go shopping. Wrap gifts. School (again). Do that thing I promised someone last week, but completely forgot. And figure out what it was. Oh, yeah. And school. Catch up on everything I missed when I was in London. "Ah! I forgot my philosophy reading

Freshly baked cookies. Mmmm. You can just imagine it. Sitting on the table, greeting all those who live in the house. The smell of sugar wafting in the air, kissing you sweetly on the cheek. Chocolate chip, sugar cookies, take your pick. But I'm making gingerbread. I'll first buy a gingerbread house-making kit, but whip up an extra batch of icing, because the kits never give you enough. I would make the flat gingerbread pieces myself, but every time I try, the house looks mor

Non-fiction The colours of Christmas date even back to Pagan and Celtic traditions. Here, we meet The Holly King and The Oak King. The Holly King ruled the winter, his power strongest at the solstice, before being taken over by the Oak King, who would proceed to rule over the warming months. They would, in myths, fight for control, and would rise and fall during the solstices, not in a battle of good and evil, but of light and dark, life, death and rebirth. The Winter Solstic

Contemporary There'll be a young couple; their names are irrelevant. Sat down at the kitchen counter, they'll read their books, distantly listening to the news. She will be reading a contemporary romance, of course, set at Christmas. He'll be reading something smart, maybe about economics or business, because he'll promise his future wife that they'll be rich one day. That'll spark a debate. No, a 'debate' won't be the right word. More like a... consultation? Of their dreams.

Contemporary “What are you going to ask for this year?” Mum leaned over Daisy, whispering in her ear softly, a gentle smile on her warm face. She could recognise the Christmas smile; it meant that she and Fred were being good this year, and that she was relieved that no one, including their old cat Cookie, had tried to eat the Christmas decorations. Daisy also recognised the question. It's the same question every year, without fail. And every year she knew the answer.  She wo

Contemporary Within a snowy plain, where no creature dare stir, lay an abandoned hotel. It sat, sad and melancholic amongst piles of white goodness that wouldn’t clear until Spring. The brick walls held firm, despite the paint slowly chipping off, making the sign hardly visible. It was just as well, because no one had visited the hotel for over a decade, because a rumour had spread that it was overgrown with poisonous weeds.  Well, never mind the rumours. Even if they had eve

Non-fiction Oh! History! I love this one! So... diverse and magnificent! But this his-story (see what I did there?) won't be your cut-and-dry textbook. For today only, I have hired Sir Chrystamasasaurus (don't laugh at his name! He's sensitive!) to show you how Christmas came to be. And remember! Don't laugh at his name... "Sir Chrystamasasaurus. Good to meet you. I'm not here to dilly-dally, so I'll do your introduction for you." He takes your hand, shaking it quickly and fi

Contemporary The Orphanage. 1990. Mikaela, Andrew and Alexandra sat on the couch. "At least someone is getting a Merry Christmas." Andrew huffed. Yeah: Zelana. She got chosen, but none of them were surprised; she kept good care of herself, was smart, and clearly had big things to do in life. It was impossible to show these things to the people who came in and eyed them like vultures, trying to determine if you were the 'best' fit. But Zelana managed to break that curse. Alex

Contemporary "A... rock?" I grimace at Charlie, who is smiling his foolish grin, looking at me expectantly. The rock is the size of my palm, painted with a few strokes of gentle blue, and definitely not a disappointment. I clear my throat, readjusting the Christmas lights of the tree. "Thank you." I'm unable to make my voice above a whisper. Why did I expect something to change this year? He was an incredible gift-giver that first Christmas we spent together. I got a beautifu